Tiny Dancer
by HardyBoyz4Eva
Summary: Adam is a dancer with a secret. Randy is a widower with a four-year-old child. When they meet, will love blossom? Or will someone be heartbroken? Slash. Please Review. Randy/Adam, Junk, Miz/JoMo.
1. Introduction

**Title:** Tiny Dancer

**World:** AU

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Drama

**Pair(s):** Randy/Adam, Jeff/Phil, Mike/JoMo, etc.

**Summary:** Adam is a dancer with a secret. Randy is a widower with a four-year-old child. When they meet, will love blossom? Or will someone be heartbroken?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone. I also don't own the lyrics used.

**Warning:** Slash, Exotic Dancing, Stripping, Violence, Mpreg, etc.

**Part:** 1/? – Introduction

**OOOO**

Eve strut over to the three men in the back room. "Boys, we have a lot of VIPs out there. I will say this _once_. If this isn't the routine of a lifetime, it's all of your asses on the line."

Before any of the men could answer, the woman walked off to attend to other affairs. Jeff shook his head, totally uninterested with the entire situation. He looked in the mirror as he filled in artwork on his face with red and yellow paint. JoMo stood in front of the mirror, admiring his new coat. It was the middle of June and hot as hell, and he had cashed his check in on a fur coat… And the last man, Adam, smeared baby oil over his naked chest.

"Eve's been a real bitch lately." Jeff announced suddenly. "I think she takes all of _this_ a little too seriously."

Adam shook his head, his fluffy blond hair tumbling over his naked shoulders. "She's _always_ a bitch, Jeffy. Most likely, she always will be."

Jeff turned around, a small smirk on his face. "That's so true." He tossed his hair back and showed off his artwork. "How does it look?"

"Great." Adam ruffled the smaller man's hair. "Gonna need to dye it soon."

"I think JoMo will have to dye his soon too." Jeff tossed over his shoulder.

"_What?"_ JoMo shrieked. Frantically, he pulled his hair out of the messy ponytail so that he had a clear view of his roots. A shock of brown could clearly be seen beneath the black.

"Calm down, Johnny." Adam smiled at the flamboyant diva. "Jeff just likes to tease you. It's really not all _that_ noticeable. You can trust me. I wouldn't lie to you."

"O-Okay." JoMo hesitantly calmed down. "What do you think of the jeans?"

JoMo shook his hips enticingly. The jeans were studded with rhinestones and perfectly displayed the supple curve of his ass. "They're hot. I'm sure you'll make some man _very_ happy, Johnny. How much did they cost?"

"Five-thousand dollars." JoMo tossed over his shoulder carelessly.

Adam and Jeff almost choked on the air. It wasn't unknown that John had a bit of a shopping fetish, and that he would bleed his bank account dry if left alone for any stretch of time, but _five-thousand dollar _jeans? That was a little out of character. The two blonds shared a look as JoMo started to strut in front of the mirror. He was definitely a fan favorite, with Jeff close behind. Jeff was more of the dominate kind. Adam, however, was the star.

He was, in no uncertain terms, every man in the club's wet dream. An adorable blond with a killer body, who was known to become a little loose when he had just the _right_ amount of liquor. Call him easy, call him a slut, he didn't really care. He was never one to allow people to pin him into a corner with a title. He was the way he wanted to be, and it had taken him a long time to be able to say that. And he was exactly _where_ he wanted to be.

"Whatcha thinkin' about, Addy?" Jeff asked as he turned his back on the blond to slide into his leather pants (or, as he liked to call them, his second skin).

"Nothin'." Adam shook his head to try and clear it. He needed to concentrate.

Jeff shot him a look. "C'mon, Addy. Give me a little more credit. Whenever you say that it's _nothing_, I know that it has to be something. You can tell me."

JoMo shot the two men a look, before he tossed his two cents in. "It's like he's a fucking mind-reader. He _always_ knows when we're upset. Don't try to fight it. It only makes the mind-reading ability stronger."

"Fine." Adam looked between them hesitantly, before he admitted, "I've been thinking about _him_ a lot lately."

"Aww, Addy…" JoMo rubbed his shoulder comfortingly.

Jeff narrowed his eyes. "You know that he's been banned from the club. Mark and Hunter won't let him hurt you, baby. And if he so much as _looks_ at you funny, I'll kill him."

Their little conversation was broken by Eve's untimely reappearance. "You're on in five. You better make this good!"

Jeff shot her the finger when her back was turned, before he turned back to Adam. "It's okay, baby. I promised you _both_ when I took you under my wing that I would protect you. I meant that."

Adam nodded, reassured. "Thanks, Jeffy." Adam kissed the blond's cheek, before he raced out of the room.

Jeff sighed. Even if it had been five years since the _incident_, Adam still remembered it as clearly as if it had been yesterday. He knew that it would be unrealistic to hope that he forgot it; he only hoped that one day the blond would be able to move past it. Checking to make sure JoMo was behind him, he followed Adam to the curtain. Catcalls and screams came from the stage as the last dancer finished. Tyson was usually a fan favorite.

The music was cut, and the curtain opened to reveal Tyson Kidd, who was dressed only in a stark white g-string. He had money attached to his skin in obscene places (Jeff wasn't even sure _how_ the money stuck on his skin like that). The stage hand that awaited him slid a black, fluffy robe over his body to hide his nakedness. The curtains at the front of the stage closed as another assistant retrieved his clothes and the rest of his money.

It was almost time for the next routine.

**OOOO**

"I still don't understand why I'm here…" Randy trailed off as he reluctantly drank from the flute of white wine that Mike had insisted he order. "I'm not even interested in men."

Mike rolled his eyes. "Trust me, once you lay your eyes on the next one, all thoughts of heterosexuality will _vanish_. He's a walking, talking, wet dream. And if you… well, you know… he's only one-thousand dollars."

Randy almost choked on his drink. _Only_ one-thousand dollars? While Randy could easily afford that, it wasn't a small amount of cash to dish out for sex. "I don't even know him. Why would I sleep with him?"

Phil rolled his eyes. "It's no-strings-attached sex. Isn't that what you need?"

"I thought 'No Promiscuous Sex' was part of that Straight Edge shit?" Randy tossed back.

"It is." Phil acknowledged. "I happen to have found a rare jewel. A dominant man who, for no extra money, is _exclusive_ to me. I can tell that he isn't lying, because his brother can confirm it."

"So, you found a diamond in the rough. The one who _doesn't_ believe in luck seems to have sucked all of the luck out of the universe." Randy shot back. "What's his name, anyway?"

"Adam Copeland." A rather feminine voice answered. Randy looked confused for a moment, before he realized that that slut – he thought her name was Eve – came back to announce the next dancers. "Jeff Hardy and John Morrison."

"Oh, you're in for a real treat tonight." Phil said through tight lips as the music started.

"Alone, the men are hot." Mike said as he settled down in his chair and took a drink. "_Together_, however, they're pure bliss. Never underestimate the influence of good music and sexy dancing, my friend."

**Don't be so quick to walk away,**

**Dance with me.**

**I want to rock your body, please stay,**

**Dance with me.**

**You don't have to admit you wanna play,**

**Dance with me.**

**Just let me rock you, till the break of day,**

**Dance with me.**

In a puff of hot smoke, three scantily clad men came out and halted under the hot, fluorescent lights. They turned their backs to the crowd and swayed sensually, their hands slowly feeling every inch of skin from their thighs to their shoulders. As they worked their way around, three poles slowly rose out of the ground. The tallest blond immediately took initiative and hooked his leg around the pole, stretching backwards slowly.

Randy was able to identify this man as Adam Copeland. He didn't know how, but he just knew. Adam rose up and hooked his other leg around the pole, tightening his hands a little higher up and slowly grinding down on the cold metal. JoMo followed close behind, his leg still hooked around the pole as he slid his hands up under his shirt and popped the buttons. Screams came from the crowd as it slid off his lithe body, followed soon by a silver necklace.

**Got time, but I don't mind,**

**Just wanna rock you girl.**

**I'll have whatever you have,**

**C'mon, just give it up girl.**

**See, I've been watching you,**

**I like the way you move.**

**So go ahead, girl, just do,**

**That ass shaking thing you do.**

Adam slid out of his shirt and had his hands on the buckle of his belt, when he halted. All of a sudden, he climbed off of the pole and started to dance down the little ramp. The other two men, not to be outdone, danced behind him, their movements always perfectly synced with one another. And then, still in sync, one particularly slutty thrust of the hips led to their pants being torn completely off of their bodies.

Money was thrown at their feet and the lucky few who sat at tables close enough to the dancers stuffed it into their boots or, occasionally, their thongs. Adam, ever the exhibitionist, stuck his thumbs into the straps of his thong and pulled it down just enough to show the tantalizing v-shape that led down to his manhood. Someone threw a one-hundred dollar bill at his feet. He thanked whoever it was with a quick shake of his ass, before he stuck it in his boot.

**So you grab your girls, **

**And you grab a couple more,**

**And you all come meet me in the middle of the floor.**

**Said the air is thick, it's smelling right.**

**So you blast to the left and you sail to the right.**

"I think Randy's in love." Mike snickered. Phil chuckled when he realized that the brunette hadn't taken his eyes off of Adam since the dance started.

"I am not." Randy said defiantly. "But, I have to admit that he is… charming."

"He's hot." Phil called out, the only one of them who wasn't drunk off of his rocker.

"Why don't we call him over and see how much you _don't _like him?" Mike offered and Phil nodded. He motioned for the blond beauty to come over, and after a second, he danced over to their table.

So, this was the table of VIPs that Eve had been so worried about. Adam rolled his eyes. Two of them were so captivated by the other dancers that they couldn't walk away unsatisfied. But the man in the middle, well… he seemed a little out of place and _extremely _uncomfortable. He would have to remedy that. Slowly, he slid onto the man's lap and thrust down his hips.

Mike stuffed a bottle of wine into his hands, because it was well-known that when he was drunk he loosened up. He downed a quarter of the bottle and slammed it down on the table, before he leaned forward and kissed the man. Randy's eyes were blown wide, and Adam kissed the man once more. The music was starting to wind down, so he rose and walked back toward the stage.

Randy was head over heels in lust.

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Again, I don't own the song. It is Rock Your Body by Justin Timberlake. Please Review!


	2. A Formal Intoduction

**Title:** Tiny Dancer

**World:** AU

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Drama

**Pair(s):** Randy/Adam, Jeff/Phil, Mike/JoMo, etc.

**Summary:** Adam is a dancer with a secret. Randy is a widower with a four-year-old child. When they meet, will love blossom? Or will someone be heartbroken?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone. I also don't own the lyrics used.

**Warning:** Slash, Exotic Dancing, Stripping, Violence, Mpreg, etc.

**Part:** 2/? – A Formal Introduction

**OOOO**

JoMo had run off shortly after the show. He said that he had to meet someone. So, Adam and Jeff had the locker room to themselves as they tucked their newly retrieved outfits into their lockers and started to dress. Jeff slid into loose black shorts and a white tank that revealed the colorful concoction of tattoos on his arm. Adam tossed him a washcloth to clean his face while the blond dressed in jeans and a red and black 'Rated R' t-shirt.

"Do you need a ride home, Adam?" Jeff asked. He looked a lot different without the art all over his face.

Adam shook his head. "Nah, I'll be fine. Besides, don't you have a _date_ with Phil?"

"It's not a date." Jeff hurriedly denied. However, Adam could see that he was a little embarrassed. "We're friends with benefits, that's all."

"Uh huh," it was obvious that Adam didn't really believe him.

"Anyway," the smaller blond rolled his eyes as he tossed his bag over his shoulder. "Take care of yourself, okay? If you need somethin', don't hesitate to call."

Adam smiled. He was extremely fortunate to have a friend like Jeff and he knew it. "Thanks. I just might do that. The only food I have in the house are Cheerios and Peanut Butter & Strawberry Jelly."

Jeff raised an eyebrow. "No bread?"

"Oh, yeah. I have bread too." Adam confirmed.

Jeff laughed. Adam loved the sound of it. "With that said, how about we hit the store tomorrow before work? I think that I need some new boots. Someone _bit_ these."

Adam could barely contain a snicker as he said, "Okay. See you tomorrow."

The blond walked out of the locker room and toward the front of the club. It had been extremely kind of Jeff to offer the blond a ride, considering the fact that his car had been at the mechanic's for a little over a week after an accident landed him with five-thousand dollars worth of damage. Luckily, Adam had walked away unscathed. The car, however… he was lucky it wasn't totaled. He shook his head as he walked out into the hot, June morning.

It was about 4:30 AM. Adam sighed as he started toward the sidewalk. Brielle would be awake soon. His concentration was elsewhere, and not even thinking about it, he walked into someone from behind. An obviously masculine voice let out a string of curses as his keys flew out of his hands. Adam mumbled an apology and bent down and took the keys in his hand. Immediately, he handed them over.

"Thanks." The man mumbled.

"Oh, it's no problem." Adam said. "I'm sorry that I ran into you like that."

The man looked up and Adam recognized him as the man from the club. He must've recognized Adam as well, because a dark flush came over his cheeks and he looked away. "Well, thanks again."

"Hey." Adam called as the man started to walk away. "I'm sorry if I man you uncomfortable earlier. You didn't really seem all that into it."

The man shook his head. "You're fine. I wasn't uncomfortable."

"Good." Adam's smile made the man's heart stop. "That makes me feel better."

This time, Adam started to walk away. The man called out to him, "Wait! What's your name? I mean… it seems a little awkward that I don't know it and all…"

Adam smiled. "Adam Copeland. And you?"

"Randy Orton."

**OOOO**

"I'm home." Adam called into the silence.

It was 5:15 AM when he finally arrived home. The blond kicked off his sneakers and tossed his bag down by the front door of his house. The house was dark, but this wasn't unexpected. A loud squeal came from the den, before a little body ran across the room and threw itself at the tall blond. Adam chuckled as he scooped the baby into his arms and cuddled her to his chest.

Brielle was Adam's six-year-old daughter. The child had a congenital heart defect known as an irregular heartbeat, which had become worse in the last five months. The doctor had warned him that she would need an operation to fix it soon, or else she could suffer a heart attack or suffer sudden cardiac arrest. He had also said that their insurance wouldn't cover it until the medication didn't work anymore.

"Hey, baby." Adam cooed softly as Brielle kicked her feet happily. "Were you a good little girl for Beth? Did you two have fun?" Adam asked.

Brielle smiled at Adam cheerfully. "We had lots and lots of fun, Mommy! I even drew you a pretty picture! You wanna see it? Please? _Please?_"

"Of _course_ I'd like to see it, baby." Adam said as he set her down on the floor. Brielle ran off toward the den.

The six-year-old came back a moment later, her picture in hand. "Do you like it, Mommy?"

It was a crooked heart that was carefully filled in with red crayon, and it said 'I Love My Mommy'. "I love it, Bri."

"Good." Brielle chuckled innocently.

Adam and Brielle walked into the kitchen, where Adam pinned her picture up onto the fridge. The little girl giggled happily, before Adam started to fix her breakfast. Cheerios and milk. The breakfast of champions. A yawn came from the den as Beth stretched and walked into the kitchen. Adam pulled a chair over to the counter and had Brielle eat her breakfast, before he pulled two fifties out of his wallet and handed them to Beth.

"Thanks." Beth tucked them into her pocket. "I'll be here tomorrow at the same time?"

Adam shook his head. "Actually, could you come two hours earlier? I need to head out to the store to buy some food. If you can't, that's fine. I can take Brielle with me and drop her off at the house afterword."

Beth shook her head. "No, that's totally fine. I don't have anything to do."

"Thanks." Adam smiled at her, and the blond woman nodded, before she left.

**OOOO**

Randy went into work at 6:00 AM, totally exhausted and with a killer headache. He really shouldn't have had that wine last night. He worked for the infamous AW at All World Productions, which was a company that managed several well-known male models. AW, the CEO, had founded the company when he was eighteen and had been raking in the millions ever since. Randy was the COO, one level below AW himself.

It was Randy's job to make sure that all of the contracts were official, that the models were taken care of, and that the managers received their checks. He supervised five managers: Michael Mizanin, Phil Brooks, Daniel Bryan, Sheamus O'Shaughnessy, and Jay Reso. Their list of clients ranged from the well-known male model, John Cena (a close friend of Randy's), to the lesser known Alex Riley and Heath Slater.

"Your coffee, Mr. Orton." AJ Lee, a bubbly woman (who was a _little_ on the crazy side) who had been his secretary for close to five years now, handed him a fresh cup of coffee. "You have a meeting with a potential client today."

Randy nodded as he scrolled through his agenda, which AJ had taken the time to download onto his computer. "Chris Jericho, forty-one. He's the lead in the band 'Fozzy' and is from Canada."

"I've heard that he's a bit egotistical, sir." AJ said matter-of-factly.

"Do you have any evidence of this?" Randy asked.

AJ nodded, but her brown eyes were wide and unsure. "He's met with Phil about the independent circuit before."

"What did Phil say to him?" Randy asked.

AJ turned away as she answered, "He turned Jericho down, and Jericho took it upon himself to introduce a beer bottle to Phil's head. Be careful with him, Mr. Orton. He's not to be underestimated."

"Am I not _always_ careful?" That was a loaded question if she had ever heard one. "What else do I have for today?"

AJ shook her head. "Nothing, sir. The promotional company for our newest ad had to cancel and rescheduled for tomorrow, so you're in the clear."

"Thanks, AJ. I'll let you know if I need anything else." Randy said dismissively.

"Okay, sir." AJ answered, before she walked out of his office and into her own.

Slowly, Randy started to look into Chris' file. He _did_ have experience before when it came to the modeling industry. He had that hard-rocker style, with blond hair and blue eyes, which really seemed to be the 'in' look at the moment. However, what AJ had said troubled him. Randy didn't want someone that would cause trouble with the other models or the managers. It wouldn't be fair to have to worry about harassment in the work area.

"Mr. Orton? Mr. Jericho is here to see you." AJ said over the intercom.

"Send him in." Randy ordered calmly.

Immediately, Randy knew that he was in _way_ over his head. Just from the way the man walked, he believed that he was the greatest thing to hit the earth since diamonds… and was more expensive too. But arrogance doesn't sell magazines. Arrogance doesn't sell products. Even if Jericho was a veteran of this business, he obviously still had a lot to learn if he wanted to be hired at All World Productions.

Randy rose and shook his hand, ever the gentleman. Chris had a firm grip, almost a little _too_ firm. When Randy drew his hand back, his palm was red and a little bit of the color had drained out of his tan. He motioned for Chris to take a seat in the expensive, black leather armchair in front of his desk. The rock star threw himself down and crossed one leg over the other. Randy didn't like this guy at all.

"So, Chris. What made you want to come and work for All World Productions?" Randy asked. He had a generic sheet of questions that had to be answered, plus a few off the top of his head to determine a man's character.

"I heard that you're the best of the best." Chris answered simply, as if his answer was obvious. "And since I'm the best in the world, I believe that that is a match made in heaven."

"Yes… you _do_ refer to yourself as the 'Best in the World' several times. Why is that?" Randy inquired.

"Because I am." Chris said.

Randy raised an eyebrow. "That's not an answer, Mr. Jericho. If you want to work for a business like All World Productions, you have to have two things. Talent and character. So far, you don't have either."

Chris frowned. "Obviously, a foolish COO who works every day from nine to five has _no_ idea what real talent is, and wouldn't even know if it bit him in the ass! Bring one of your managers in here and see what they think of me!"

"You're not in any position to be making demands, Mr. Jericho. Now, calm down." Randy ordered.

"Do it." It was Chris' turn to order Randy around.

"You know what? I think I've finished my evaluation. I'll be sure to have my people call you with the full results." Randy sneered. "Now, leave my office before I call security down here and have them _remove_ you."

"No." Chris bit back.

Randy slammed his finger down on the intercom. "AJ, call security."

Within minutes, the men from security had Chris by both arms and were practically _dragging_ him out of the office. Randy snickered to himself. Some men just never mature. _The best in the world_, Randy scoffed. Without much thought, he tossed the file folder into the trash bin. His final evaluation? That man needed a serious reality check. They didn't need people with his kind of mindset at All World Productions.

However, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he would be seeing Chris again…

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Please Review!


	3. Shop 'Till You Drop

**Title:** Tiny Dancer

**World:** AU

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Drama

**Pair(s):** Randy/Adam, Jeff/Phil, Mike/JoMo, etc.

**Summary:** Adam is a dancer with a secret. Randy is a widower with a four-year-old child. When they meet, will love blossom? Or will someone be heartbroken?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone. I also don't own the lyrics used.

**Warning:** Slash, Exotic Dancing, Stripping, Violence, Mpreg, etc.

**Part:** 3/? – Shop 'Till You Drop

**OOOO**

**LATER THAT DAY**

The blond dancer had had about seven hours of rest in the last three days and was still fully functional… for now. He was used to the stressors in his life that didn't allow him his normal schedule of sleep. It was kind of built into the description of a father of a six-year-old with a heart condition, who returned home at the time that she awoke each day. But the weekend was extremely close. In fact, today was Friday. In other words, this was the last day that he had to work until Tuesday of next week. Was it normal to be this excited for the weekend?

Currently, the charismatic blond and his rainbow-haired friend were in Wal-Mart. Adam had a fascination with the store that was extremely unusual. If he could live there, he would. Seriously. It seemed like every time the two men went, there was another aisle to be discovered. However, today they weren't here to explore. Today, their mission was clear. They had two hours before they had to be at work, which was more than enough time to find all that Adam needed and drive back to his house to store it away. But they would have to move fast.

Suddenly, Adam tensed and touched a hand to Jeff's shoulder. Jeff, who was in tune to all of Adam's minute movements, turned to see what had captured the blond's attention. "Is that Johnny?"

Jeff could barely contain a rather obnoxious chuckle as he saw JoMo and Michael Mizanin, a 'friend' of Phil's, walking around the bakery hand-in-hand. It was too fucking _cute_! "Yeah, that's Johnny."

"I didn't know he was serious with anybody." Adam said, his bottom lip stuck out in an indignant pout. "Did you know?" When Jeff nodded, Adam huffed. Why was he _always_ the last to know?

"Cool your jets, Addy. It doesn't exactly look good on the résumé to say 'in a relationship' for your relationship status in our kind of work, does it?" Jeff asked. The rainbow-haired man did have a point.

"Yeah, but still." Clearly, Adam wasn't ready to let this one slide. "We're still best friends. Why didn't he tell me?"

Jeff shrugged. "Maybe he's not ready to admit it to himself." He said dismissively.

"Oh, yeah. That makes a whole lot of sense. Because we know that JoMo is _always_ in denial." Adam tossed back.

"It could explain the five thousand dollar jeans that he just bought." Jeff said distractedly as he looked at the fresh produce. "What kind of fruit does Brielle like?"

"Blueberries." Adam answered distractedly.

Jeff set a container of blueberries into the cart and started toward the next aisle. Adam cast one last look to Mike and JoMo, who went toward the other side of the store and, from what Adam could see, it looked like they entered the aisle for… baby clothes? But that couldn't be true, could it? After what had happened with Adam, each of them had sworn to never mix business with pleasure. It didn't end well for either side. At least with Jeff and Phil, Adam could tell that there was actual love there.

"I don't want to talk about JoMo anymore." Jeff said off-handedly. "Let's talk about you and Mr. Talk, Dark, and Handsome from the club. I saw that you ran into him outside. Did he give you any trouble?"

Adam quickly shook his head. "No. None at all. He only dropped his keys and I picked them up for him. That's all." Jeff looked at him uncertainly. "I swear, Jeff. That's the entire story."

Adam practically _salivated_ at the idea of cornering Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome in a dark alley and letting the tanned, tattooed hunk have his way with him. That would have to be, hands down, the best sex of his life. But he could tell that there was more to Randy's story then the tattooed man let on. Obviously, he was friends with Mike and Phil. That in itself was dangerous. While Phil wasn't exactly a _negative_ influence, Mike had had problems with alcoholism before. That was what worried him about his budding 'relationship' with JoMo.

The man still wore his wedding ring, which unsettled Adam a little bit. Was he cheating on his wife? Was he trying to hide the fact that he was gay from his family? Maybe it was a different story entirely. Could he be cheating on his _husband_? Adam didn't know for sure. But what he _did_ know was that Randy had looked awfully uncomfortable. Suddenly, Adam turned to Jeff. That was the missing link that he had been waiting for! The blond was friends (with benefits) with Phil, who was obviously friends with Randy. Maybe Jeff knew a little bit more about him.

"Jeff?" Adam called out to his best friend, who turned his head a bit to show that he was listening.

"What is it, Adam?" He asked softly. Meanwhile, he tossed two packs of AA Batteries into the cart.

"What do you know about Randy Orton?" Adam asked. Jeff came to a complete halt and turned around fully to look at Adam as if he had sprouted a second (and third) head.

"What do you want to know about Randy Orton?" Jeff asked nastily. "And, a better question would be, _why_ do you want to know it?"

"I'm just interested. Is that a crime?" Adam shot back.

Jeff sighed and shook his head in disgust. "Randal Keith Orton is the COO of All World Productions and the boss of Phil and Mike. He's an all-around royal ass, with a dead wife and an adorable, four-year-old brat."

"His wife is… dead?" Adam asked, more than a little shocked.

"Yeah." Jeff answered nonchalantly as he started back down the aisle.

"Did he ever remarry?" Adam continued to assault Jeff with questions.

"Not that I know of." Jeff answered distractedly as he read the label on a soup can.

"Then…" Adam was almost hesitant to ask this question, unsure of it was from fear of Jeff not knowing the answer or from fear of Jeff lashing out at him. "Why does he still wear the ring?"

"Sentimentality, I guess."

Jeff's answer didn't even resonate. Adam was too busy trying to form his own answers in his head.

**AT THE CLUB**

Adam was a little upset when he didn't see Randy out in the crowd, but he didn't let it take his mood too far down. He walked back into the locker room, the first of the men to arrive back, and stripped down for a nice, hot shower before he went home for the weekend. He shut the door to the bathroom and turned the water on as hot as it would come. When the temperature satisfied him, he stepped under the scalding spray and let it wash all baby oil and glitter residue off of his body.

He didn't hear anyone come into the bathroom, but suddenly the door was open and someone else was stripping out of their clothes. Subconsciously, Adam wrapped his arms around his naked body and tried to make himself as small as possible. Through the frosted glass of the shower's sliding door, he could see a hand feeling the glass to see if it was being used. Since the shower cubicles were totally enclosed, it was almost impossible to hear inside without opening the door. Adam didn't like the design, but Vince insisted that it maximized privacy.

After a moment, the hand went away and Adam allowed himself to relax. He could still feel _his_ hands crawling all over him, even if it had been six years since that horrific occurrence. Another shower started somewhere off to the side and it seemed as if Adam had been forgotten, which he was thankful for. Slowly, he allowed his body to slide down the wall and he drew his knees into his chest. The fear that he had felt for a minute there turned his blood cold and made his entire body tremble. He needed a shot from the bar before he went home.

Hesitating only a moment, the blond climbed back to his feet and made quick work of his shower. He didn't want to be nude for any longer then he had to be. When he was finished, he killed the stream of water and grabbed the towel off of the wrack on the far wall, ensuring that he wouldn't be naked until he was out of the bathroom. Walking back into the main locker room, he pulled out a pair of Jeff's old black track pants and a shirt that advertised the club's logo: _D.A.M.N. – The Hottest Male Exotic Dancers This Side of the World. _

"You okay there, Ads? You're shaking awfully bad." JoMo pointed out. He still hadn't mentioned his relationship with Mike, but it was now more obvious than ever, because the brunette couldn't walk right.

"I'm fine… I just don't feel too hot, that's all. I think that I'm gonna… head out for some fresh air, and then I'll head home. Yeah, that's what I'll do. I'll see you two on Tuesday!" Adam forced out hurriedly.

Jeff and JoMo barely had a chance to say 'Bye' before Adam had rushed out.

To be totally honest, Adam was terrified. It was like he was back in that moment, and he could feel it so vividly that it scared the hell out of him. He could hear the bastard's maniacal laughter, could feel the blood as it dried on his thighs… his clothes torn and pooled around him as his body was used for another's pleasure. He had never felt like so much of a filthy whore then he had at that moment. The only good thing that had come out of it was his beautiful baby girl, Brielle. She was his entire world.

He tried to convince himself that all of the sensations that he felt were in his mind, but it was incredibly difficult. It was like he had lost the connection between his brain and his body, because his body continued to tremble uncontrollably and fight off a non-existent attacker. Not knowing what else to do, Adam broke out into a run. The adrenaline rushed out of him in a flood, and it took him well over fifteen minutes to realize that he was running in that complete _opposite_ direction of the way that he should have traveled to head back home.

He was currently in the ritzy part of town, with houses that were built several layers on top of themselves and swimming pools that seemed to be endless. Adam didn't even have enough money to pay for an operation that would save his daughter's life. He scoffed at the houses, not really watching where he was going, until he collided head-on with a sturdy object and crashed down to the ground. He let out a startled yelp as he sat back up, only to be tackled once more by a dog that seemed to weigh nearly one hundred pounds.

"Heh, long time no see, Adam." Adam's heart turned to stone when he heard that voice and, ever so slowly, he turned around to come face to face with the man who had called out to him.

**OOOO**

**A/N:** And I shall leave you with that cliffhanger. I know, I'm evil. But, trust me when I say that the next chapter will be uploaded soon! Until then, as always, remember to review! They make me write faster and inspire me to write longer chapters!


	4. The Heart Attack

**Title:** Tiny Dancer

**World:** AU

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Drama

**Pair(s):** Randy/Adam, Jeff/Phil, Mike/JoMo, etc.

**Summary:** Adam is a dancer with a secret. Randy is a widower with a four-year-old child. When they meet, will love blossom? Or will someone be heartbroken?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone. I also don't own the lyrics used.

**Warning:** Slash, Exotic Dancing, Stripping, Violence, Mpreg, etc.

**Part:** 4/? – The Heart Attack

**OOOO**

"Oh, Randy. Do me a favor and don't scare me like that. I don't think that my heart can take it." Adam said softly. Randy chastised the mutt, which seemed to be named 'Lady', before he extended a hand toward Adam.

Adam took it and corrected himself. "Sorry about that, Adam. Lady can be a bit overzealous when she meets new people." Randy explained nonchalantly. "Are you okay?"

Adam looked at the smaller man, a little bit confused. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"Your elbow is all bloody." Randy answered matter-of-factly.

"Oh?" Adam sounded shocked. He looked down at his elbow and, sure enough, there was a patch of skin missing and blood all over his forearm and the sidewalk. "That looks like it should hurt."

"Yeah, it does." Randy commented. "Why don't you come back with me and I'll clean that up for you? I wouldn't want you to bloody your clothes."

Adam was a little hesitant to head back to the house of a man that he barely knew, especially after what had occurred six years earlier, but Randy seemed sincere in his desire to assist him. "Okay."

The two walked back to the tanned man's house. The sun had started to rise in the distance and Adam knew that Brielle would awake soon and wonder where he was. Randy switched the leash over to his other hand and unlocked the front door to his house, before he allowed Lady inside and released her leash. As if she had been trained to do so, the mutt immediately raced over to her bed in the corner and rested her head on her two front paws. Randy continued to lead Adam into the kitchen, where he told him to take a seat at the table.

He went over to the kitchen sink, reached into the cabinet overhead, and took out the first-aid kit. The brunette walked over and, after he had opened the little metal box, took out the antiseptic and the gauze. In order to ensure that no blood stained Adam's shirt, he took it off and draped it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. First, he cleaned the blood off of Adam's arm with a baby wipe, before he tossed that into the nearby trashcan. And then he took a small cotton ball and wet it with the antiseptic.

"This will burn a little bit. Just tell me if it hurts too much, okay? I don't want to hurt you." Randy said honestly, and he waited for Adam to answer before he cleaned out the wound.

"Okay." Adam said softly. There was a small draft in the room and he was a little chilly.

Carefully, Randy cleaned out the wound. It did burn a little bit, but Randy's warm hands on his arm helped him to remember that Randy only wanted to help him. It wasn't his intention to harm him. Once the wound was clean, Randy wrapped the wound a few times and secured the gauze with a little strip of tape. Adam thanked him with a small smile, and his eyes never once left Randy as he walked off to put the first-aid kit back where he had found it. Randy was about to speak, but the moment was interrupted by the appearance of a small, tired child.

"Daddy." The little girl rubbed at her bright blue eyes with a balled-up fist. "Alannah hungry."

Randy turned to Adam and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about this, Adam." Adam shrugged it off. "And Alannah, it's not 'Alannah hungry', it's 'I'm hungry'."

Alannah was silent for a moment, before she said. "I'm hungry."

"That's better." Randy picked her up and slid her onto one of the chairs, which had two telephone books on it so that she could reach the table surface. "What would you like to eat?"

"Cheerios, please." Alannah lisped cutely.

"One bowl of Cheerios, coming up." Randy said. "Alannah, why don't you introduce yourself to Mr. Copeland?"

Alannah turned to Adam and blinked at him cutely. She looked so much like her father, it was almost scary. "I Alannah Orton. Who are you?"

"Well, I'm Adam." Adam answered. "How old are you, Alannah?"

Alannah started to count on her fingers, before she held up five. "I'm four."

Adam chuckled. She was honestly too cute for words. "Well, Alannah – I have a little girl too. Her name is Brielle, and she's six."

"Brielle?" Alannah totally botched the older child's name, but that was okay.

"Yeah, Brielle." It was then that Adam looked at the clock and noticed how late he was.

While Randy fixed the four-year-old her Cheerios, Adam slid his shirt back on and stretched. It was at least an hour walk back to the house, and Beth had to head back home because her mother wasn't anticipating her to be gone this late. Randy shot him an odd look, but didn't comment as he watched Adam re-stuff the wad of cash that he had earned that night into his pocket. He was sincerely looking forward to the weekend. Maybe, after several hours of sleep, he could take Brielle to the park. It always made her feel better when she could be with the other kids.

"I'm afraid that I have to hit the road. Brielle will be awake soon and I don't want her to be scared when she finds that I'm not home yet. It was very nice meeting you, Alannah." Adam said cheerfully to the bubbly child.

"Bye-Bye, Adam." Alannah blinked at him sweetly.

"Thanks for the help, Randy. It meant a lot." Adam said to the tattooed brunette.

"Anytime." Randy said. He couldn't help but be extremely worried as he watched Adam walk out into the budding sunlight, but he didn't know what he was worried of…

**MEANWHILE**

"Hold on sweetie, okay? Just take a slow, steady breath. Just like that. It's okay, baby. It's okay." Beth ranted as the six-year-old frantically clutched her chest, unable to breathe.

"It hurts, Beth!" Brielle exclaimed, barely able to force out the words in her breathlessness.

Beth had called the ambulance well over a half hour ago, but with the accident on the junction of Madison and Fourth, they had estimated another ten minutes before anyone would be able to reach them. Brielle was terrified and it only added to the pressure that had started to bud in her chest. When Adam had brought Beth in as the babysitter, he had told her about Brielle's medical condition. She knew just how fragile the child was. A heart attack could _kill_ her, and all she could do was sit there and comfort her as they waited for the ambulance to arrive.

And then, Beth suddenly remembered that Adam had said, should the incident ever occur, there was a bottle of baby aspirin in the medicine cabinet. After she assured the child that she would be back in less than a minute, she raced into the bathroom and took out one of the white, ovular pills. Filling a small Dixie cup with ice-cold water, she walked back to the child as fast as she could and forced her to take the pill. She refused to admit that there was a chance that this child could die. It wasn't fair. She was only six, damn it! The child's eyes fluttered slowly.

"Brielle? Brielle, baby, you have to keep those eyes open. Brielle? Brielle!" Beth watched as the child's eyes closed completely. Her breath had become faint and her heartbeat had slowed drastically.

It was at that moment that the ambulance finally arrived…

**OOOO**

Jeff rolled over in bed and reached for his cell, which had been vibrating nonstop for the last hour and a half. Blearily, he looked at the clock. It read 1:30 PM. Shit! How long had he been asleep? The blond man rolled back onto his back, Phil's body naturally rolling around with his. The smaller ravenette repositioned his head on Jeff's chest and had one leg thrown over Jeff's. If Jeff hadn't been so hell bent on finding out who had been harassing his phone, he would've stopped to admire how cute it was.

The last three texts read:

**Adam:** _Just came home to find out that Brielle had a heart attack and needs to be taken to the hospital. It looks like the medication has finally failed. Still don't have the money for operation._

**Adam:** _The doctor confirmed that Brielle had a heart attack. Still has irregular heart beat. Insurance continues to refuse surgery. And now she needs bypass surgery because a heart valve died. Insurance won't cover that either._

**Adam:** _I've contacted Vince. I know what I have to do for the money. It's the only way. If I pick up extra hours at the club and work the 'extra' shift, then I'll be able to afford her operation._

Jeff's heart sank into his stomach. It was horrific that Adam even had to _think_ about the 'extra' shift. The extra shift was basically an after-hours special offer, where you could take your favorite dancer to the back bedrooms for one-thousand dollars an hour. It was the first time that Adam had worked that shift that had gotten him into trouble. That was before Jeff had found him and taken him under his wing. Everyone believed that Adam was Jeff's bitch, but that wasn't the case. Jeff was with Phil, and Adam didn't have a boyfriend.

Contrary to the way that he danced, Adam wasn't really a whore. The first time (and the last time) that he worked the 'extra' shift; Adam had truly loved the man that had taken him. But he hadn't been ready for it and it had been his first time. The man had manhandled him, abused him, and then thrown him aside like he was lesser than dirt. It made Jeff sick, and he swore that, if he ever found out what rock that bastard had climbed under, he would find him and kill him for how much hurt he had caused Adam. He didn't even care about Brielle.

Phil felt the bigger man tense beneath him and frowned, suddenly awoken from his deep state of unconsciousness. He stretched out, and when Jeff shifted, he nearly threw the ravenette off of the bed. Phil frowned and shoved his boyfriend hard in the side. Yes, in the darkness of their own chambers, Phil and Jeff were free to admit that they were boyfriends. Jeff had never been with another; no matter how many times Vince McMahon insisted that he was 'ideal' material for the 'extra' shift.

"What's the matter?" Phil asked tiredly. He sounded exhausted and his eyes were barely open.

"Adam's daughter had a heart attack and is in intensive care." Jeff said softly. "He is going to head back to the extra shift in order to pay off the operations without insurance."

Phil shook his head. "It's awful that she can't be approved for the operation. But there has to be another way instead of whoring himself out."

"I don't know. I really don't know." Jeff said. "I'm not sure he'd be willing to listen to reason at this point."

Suddenly, Phil sat upright and snatched his own phone off of the bedside table. Jeff was about to ask him what the hell he was doing, but Phil shot him a look and said, "I have to make a phone call."

Jeff watched as Phil walked into the other room, before he rolled his eyes and fell back onto the mattress. "Okay, then."

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Please Review!


	5. The Truth About Grief

**Title:** Tiny Dancer

**World:** AU

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Drama

**Pair(s):** Randy/Adam, Jeff/Phil, Mike/JoMo, etc.

**Summary:** Adam is a dancer with a secret. Randy is a widower with a four-year-old child. When they meet, will love blossom? Or will someone be heartbroken?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone. I also don't own the lyrics used.

**Warning:** Slash, Exotic Dancing, Stripping, Violence, Mpreg, etc.

**Part:** 5/? – The Truth About Grief

**OOOO**

John Cena, the star model for All World Promotions, used to be the 'mother' of two beautiful children. Well, that wasn't exactly true. He still _was_ the 'mother' of two beautiful children. Unfortunately, that life had crashed down around him on his twenty-fifth birthday. He had come home from work to find that his house had burned down. His son, seven-year-old Nathan, had died in the initial blast. His husband, Dave Batista, had died on his way to the nursery. And his baby, two-year-old Cynthia, had died of smoke inhalation.

Grief had overtaken John, and he was in a rather delicate state of mind when he first met Phil Brooks. Phil had worked for All World Promotions since he was twenty-one, and was currently in need of a new client. It was the ideal situation for John, because John needed to fix the life that seemed to have shattered around him. Immediately, Phil took him in and started to teach him about the business. And, since then, John had dedicated his life to sick children so that no other mother or father would have to lose their child. That is why Phil called him now.

John walked downstairs at 7:00 AM. It was still a little early, but he had been unable to sleep. He took the wireless phone off of the hook and answered, "Hello?"

"_I need for you to meet with someone, John."_ Phil said. _"His name is Adam Copeland. His six-year-old recently had a heart attack and he can't afford the operation to save her."_

John didn't even hesitate. "What does he need?"

"_He needs money. A lot of money."_ Phil said softly. _"But, at the moment, what he really needs is a friend."_

John nodded, even if Phil couldn't see it. "I can do that. Where can I meet him?"

Phil read off the address to the club. _"Jeff said that he won't be back in to work until Tuesday, so you'll have to wait until then. I really hope that you can help him, John."_

John smiled. "I do too."

When the call ended, John put the phone back onto the hook and walked over to the far wall. There was a portrait of their little family, made just five days before the fire that claimed their lives. It had taken John three years just to be able to hang it on the wall. It still hurt when he looked at it, but it was better that he remembered them. He never wanted to forget how those two precious children had changed his life for the better. And if he could save someone else from that pain, the he would do that.

Slowly, he stroked a hand over the painted faces of his children. It wasn't the same. And as a tear streaked down his face, he said, "I love you. Now and forever."

**SEVEN HOURS LATER**

Adam let out a weak moan as the man finished inside of him. He could feel that he was torn and a painful burn tore through his lower body. When the man pulled out, a mixture of semen and blood started to spill out of Adam's spent body. The man zipped up and a wad of cash was thrown down on the bed beside him. Adam felt sick to his stomach. Since the man hadn't made it the full hour, his cut had been docked several hundred dollars. In fact, he only received two-hundred fifty dollars for his efforts.

Adam was bound to the bed – the man hadn't even had the decency to release him. He had had to wait until Vince McMahon came by to ensure that payment had been made and that the rooms were clear so that they could be cleaned. Instead, he found Adam bound and gagged. A dark frown took over his face as he walked over and unlocked the handcuffs that bound Adam to the headboard. When the tall blond fell forward, Vince took the gag out of his mouth and rubbed his wrists to fix the circulation. He didn't mind that Adam was naked.

"It hurts." Adam moaned softly. Tears streaked down his face as he tried to move, only to have his entire back and bottom flare with the dull burn.

"He certainly did a number on you, didn't he?" Vince looked him over once. "The bastard didn't use a condom. I warned him about that. I'm sorry kid. Do you want the -,"

Adam cut him off, "No. It's fine. He said that he would dock my cut if he had to use a condom." Adam forced a little smile. "He _still_ docked my cut, but at least I have a little bit of money."

"How much did he dock you?" Vince asked.

"Seven hundred fifty dollars." Adam answered bluntly.

Vince sighed. He wasn't exactly in the business of handing out money for no reason, but he also knew that the only reason that Adam had decided to take this shift was the fact that his daughter was dying and he needed the money. After he made sure that the blond wouldn't roll off of the bed, he left the room momentarily. He returned a little while later with the safety deposit box. Inside was all of the money that the club had earned at the bar for food and drinks. Slowly, he started to count the money.

Adam didn't notice that Vince had left until a thick wad of bills was tossed down onto the bed beside him. He blinked dumbly; shocked that Vince would be so kind to him. It wasn't that Vince wasn't normally kind… well, actually, it kind of was. Vince was the kind of boss that spoke his mind and didn't give a shit what anyone else thought. And while Adam whole-heartedly admired that about him, it was a little annoying sometimes. Adam was about to thank him, but Vince shook his head.

"Just take a shower and clean yourself up. I'll have Eve come in with some Tylenol and she'll take care of the mess." Vince said matter-of-factly. "You better not waste that money, kid."

Adam hurriedly shook his head. "No, sir. I wouldn't ever dream of it."

"Good." Vince nodded and started to walk off, before he turned around and said, "Take care of yourself, Adam."

"I will sir." Adam said as he scrambled to his feet and rushed over to his private shower. "Thank you, sir. Thank you so, _so_ much."

**OOOO**

Adam walked out of the shower, a towel around his waist. He felt much better now that he had washed all reminders of that horrific man from his body. He didn't want to think about _how_ he had earned the money; just that he was now one-thousand dollars closer to saving Brielle's life. Slowly, he eased himself down onto the bed. Just like Vince had said, the sheets had been changed and Eve had left him some water and two small, red Tylenols. He took the medication and lay back on the bed. After a moment, he reached down and took hold of a photo.

It was a photo of him and his mother. His mother, who had always believed in him and only wanted the absolute best for him. He had never told her about Brielle. Correction: He _could_ never tell her about Brielle. He hated to disappoint her, and he knew that, if she knew about Brielle's father, then she would be so disappointed in him. Adam had let a man use and abuse him. Adam was barely in touch with his own sexuality, too young to truly understand it all. He had taken Adam before he was ready, and then abandoned him when he needed him most.

All of a sudden, there was a knock on the door. Quickly, Adam stuffed the photo back with his other stuff. But he wasn't fast enough to answer the door, however. The door burst open and Eve strode in, dressed in another dress that was far from professional. Didn't she realize that she worked in a _gay_ exotic dance club, for _gay_ men? Nobody was looking at her two-million dollar breast implants. But she wasn't alone. The other one with her was a man. A man that made Adam's blood run cold.

Eve turned to him with a smirk. "Adam, I do believe that you remember this man? After all, he definitely remembers you." Eve waved him over. "He's bought your services."

"No." Adam shook his head. He wouldn't do it. "No. I refuse to let him touch me."

Eve's laugh was oddly evil. "Oh, Adam, Adam, Adam… you think you actually have a choice?"

The blond walked over to the bed and slid over Adam's prone, half-naked body. Adam squirmed underneath his not-so-gentle stare. "You're _mine_ Adam, and you always will be…"

**MEANWHILE**

The work day was almost over for Randy and all of the others who worked at All World Promotions. Randy swiveled about in his chair, obviously entertained by the mindless motion. AJ came into his office and stood in front of him, a serious look on her face. For a few moments, Randy tried to ignore her. He really wasn't in the mood for her bubbly personality. But when he realized that she wasn't about to leave on her own, he turned to her and raised an eyebrow. She smiled at him.

"What do you want, AJ?" Randy asked monotonously.

"Well, I want a husband, three kids, a BMW, a house in San Francisco…" AJ started off, a dreamy look on her pretty face. Randy rolled his eyes. He seriously wasn't in the mood.

"What do you want," Randy started to clarify, "that has to do with the modeling agency, and that is so important that the entire fate of the world is at stake?"

"Oh." AJ rolled her chocolate brown eyes. "Well, why didn't you just say so silly?"

Randy was about to face-palm. "AJ…"

"Right." AJ nodded fiercely. "I have, with me, the new idea to pitch to the managers about the fundraising modeling campaign. The campaign would single out a family in need and offer all of the proceeds toward their medical care."

"Didn't we already have a conference on this idea in 2003?" Randy asked.

"Yes. But, as it is almost the tenth anniversary of the deaths of Nathan and Cynthia Batista, AW wanted to officially implement this for John." AJ said.

John was a good friend of Randy's, and Randy knew how hurt the brunette was over the incident ten years later. "Okay. I'll pitch it to the managers tomorrow morning."

As AJ skipped out of Randy's office, Randy looked over the fine details of the fundraiser. It would be an annual fundraiser that would last one year, and, like AJ had said, all proceeds would directly benefit the family of a child in need. Well, that certainly earned his stamp of approval. It still had a few kinks that needs to be worked out, but he was sure that they could make this work.

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Please Review!


	6. Unwanted Memories

**Title:** Tiny Dancer

**World:** AU

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Drama

**Pair(s):** Randy/Adam, Jeff/Phil, Mike/JoMo, etc.

**Summary:** Adam is a dancer with a secret. Randy is a widower with a four-year-old child. When they meet, will love blossom? Or will someone be heartbroken?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone. I also don't own the lyrics used.

**Warning:** Slash, Exotic Dancing, Stripping, Violence, Mpreg, Slight Dub-Con, etc.

**Part:** 6/? – Unwanted Memories

**OOOO**

"No. _Please_, no. You don't have to do this." Adam murmured furiously. The fear that he felt was evident in his emerald eyes. His heart hammered away in his chest. This had to be a dream. A horrible, _horrible_ dream.

The man only smirked. Adam cursed himself as that smirk made the tension ease out of his muscles like his body was no more than butter over a flame. "Why so scared, Adam? You know that you want this."

Adam shook his head. "No, I don't. I don't want this at all."

The man frowned and leaned back on his haunches. "Then, tell me what you want."

Adam didn't realize he had squeezed his eyes closed until a smooth, warm hand started to caress his cheek. Slowly, his eyes fluttered and met icy blue eyes no more than a foot away. "What I want?" He asked uncertainly.

"What you want." The man clarified. "I love you, Adam. I always have."

Adam blinked slowly, as if he was unable to believe what he had heard. "You… you _love_ me?"

"Of course I do, silly. You were my favorite dancer." And then, he leaned in rather close. He bit Adam's earlobe and pulled a bit, before he muttered, "You still are."

Adam's body trembled and he tried to obtain control of his heart and mind. "No. You don't love _me_. You love me because I'm a dancer. You love me because you can use my body."

"Oh, really?" The man chuckled darkly. All of a sudden, he had a fistful of Adam's blond hair and yanked his head back so far that he could feel the bones in his neck start to grind uncomfortably. "You think I would lie to you?"

Adam narrowed his eyes at the older blond and bravely declared, "I _know_ you would."

It looked as if that was the last taunt that he would allow to come from the blond's insolent mouth. With a fury that Adam had seldom experienced, the older blond, with his hand still attached to Adam's hair, slammed their faces together in a brutal kiss that left Adam tasting blood. The blond moaned and writhed beneath him, pain flaring up and down his spine as the man's hand touched his abused entrance. For a fraction of a second, he wondered where the man had thrown his towel. But then, he felt the warm trickle of blood slick his entrance, and he started to panic.

When he flinched and tried to draw back, the man shoved two fingers into his already abused entrance and stretched them out. Newly formed scabs burst and when he drew the two digits out, they were tinged with Adam's blood. All of the color drained out of Adam's face, but he knew better than to comment. If he did, then he would be punished by Vince McMahon. After all, the customer is the number one priority in the club. If Adam defied the customer's wishes, then he could very well be fired. And he couldn't afford to lose his job at the moment.

The man didn't use any lube, not that he needed to. Adam was still well-stretched and lubed from his last encounter not an hour before. Slowly, the man rolled Adam over onto his stomach and re-tangled his fingers in Adam's silky blond hair. Adam let out a barely audible moan as his face was shoved into a pillow to muffle his screams. The other hand went around Adam's lithe wrists, and soon, the man straddled him from behind. Adam winced as he prepared for the entrance. Before it even started, he knew that this would hurt like hell.

And then, all at once, the man slid in and bottomed out. Adam screamed into the pillow, but it was muffled and barely any sound could be heard. Bracing Adam's wrists against the headboard, the man leaned in closer so that his stomach was pressed to Adam's back. He was merciless with his thrusts, finishing off within Adam and not caring if the blond finished as well. Adam, much to his shame, came seconds later. The blond slid out and slapped Adam's ass, before he tossed a twenty and a five dollar bill down beside the blond's body.

"Thanks for the good time, Adam." The man smirked, a dark shadow on his face as he redressed and made his way to the door. "Maybe I'll come back for an encore."

**OOOO**

Jeff traced a hand over Phil's bare, tattooed stomach. "Philly?"

Phil blinked slowly. He was barely awake, but he forced himself to turn and face his boyfriend. "What is it, Jeff?"

"Do you ever think about children?" Jeff asked softly. He continued to trace the numerous tattoos that decorated his boyfriend's skin. "A little black-haired, green-eyed beauty?"

Slowly, Phil rolled over and latched onto his boyfriend's side. The bigger man watched as Phil snaked his arms around him and rested his head on his chest. It was kind of cute how Phil was a closet cuddler. "I don't know. Why?"

"How can you _not_ know what you think about?" Jeff asked sarcastically.

"What is this really about, Jeff?" Phil tilted his head back so that he could look Jeff in the eye.

Jeff didn't answer. He carefully slid out of Phil's arms and off of the bed. Phil huffed and buried his face into Jeff's pillow, inhaling his boyfriend's near-delectable scent. He really didn't want to have to climb out of the warmth of the bed, but he knew that he would have to follow his boyfriend, who know had started to walk out of the room and into the hall. The ravenette rolled out of the bed and followed him out. He found Jeff downstairs at Phil's kitchen table, and he already had some coffee on hand.

Neither said a word. Phil was captivated as he watched Jeff drink his coffee. It was like the man was _built_ to be an exotic dancer. He was absolutely beautiful, but in a very manly way. If Jeff ever found out that Phil thought that he was beautiful, it would be the start of WWIII. But from the face-paint that he wore to the polish on his nails, he was walking, talking, sex personified. He made Phil melt every time that he saw him. And Phil wanted to make sure that Jeff knew that. But, obviously, there was something on Jeff's mind.

"What's the matter, Jeff?" Phil asked softly. He truly sounded concerned.

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we had children?" Jeff asked, out-of-the-blue. He had this detached look in his emerald eyes. "Because I do. I do a lot."

Phil looked at him oddly. "Guess I never really thought about having children before. But that doesn't mean that I don't _want_ to have children. I just… I never…"

Jeff shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Forget I even mentioned it."

Phil frowned. "No. I won't do that. You're allowed to have your own opinion, you know."

"I just… I can't help but think about Adam and Brielle. He didn't know that that one night would lead to him having a baby. But it did, and he was still able to love her. I want to have a baby too. I always have." Jeff said.

It was true. Jeff _had_ always wanted to have a baby. But he wasn't sure if Phil was ready for one, especially since they hadn't even come out to their friends as 'official'. However, in light of recent events with Adam and the situation with Mike and JoMo, Jeff knew that he didn't want to wait anymore. Phil was his entire world and he couldn't think of anyone better to be the 'mother' of his children. Phil was flawless in every way and he knew that any child that they had would be beautiful. He was sure of it.

Phil was almost comforted by the fact that this was all that was bothering Jeff. He had told the truth when he said that he had never actually thought about having a baby before. However, that didn't mean that he was totally adverse to the idea. In fact, he kind of liked the idea of having Jeff's baby. Maybe, instead of being a black-haired, green-eyed beauty, it would be a blond-haired, blue-eyed angel. It didn't really matter. Phil knew that he would love him or her, no matter what they looked like.

However, before he could say another word, Jeff's phone started to ring. The blond frowned and took it off of the table to look at the Caller ID. It was Adam. His heart started to beat erratically in his chest as he thought of all of the things that could have gone wrong. Quickly, he answered the call. He could hear Adam desperately trying not to sob on the other end of the line. He could hear Adam shift around, desperate not to reveal just how much pain he was in. It broke Jeff's heart.

"Jeffy?" Adam cried softly. "I need you to come and take me home. I'm a mess and I just want to take a shower."

"Adam, baby-boy… what happened? I swear, if one of those bastards hurt you, I will track them down and kill them. Do you understand, Adam?" Jeff asked darkly.

Adam was silent for a moment, before he confessed, "He didn't use a condom, Jeff."

Jeff's eyes narrowed evilly. "I'll kill him."

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Sorry this chapter is a little short, but I figured that it would be best to end on that note. So, who do you think that the mystery man is? I tried to leave as many hints as I could without coming out and saying it… Please Review!


	7. His Savior

**Title:** Tiny Dancer

**World:** AU

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Drama

**Pair(s):** Randy/Adam, Jeff/Phil, Mike/JoMo, etc.

**Summary:** Adam is a dancer with a secret. Randy is a widower with a four-year-old child. When they meet, will love blossom? Or will someone be heartbroken?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone. I also don't own the lyrics used.

**Warning:** Slash, Exotic Dancing, Stripping, Violence, Mpreg, Slight Dub-Con, etc.

**Part:** 7/? – His Savior

**OOOO**

Jeff stormed into the club, a little more than furious. How did that slimy bastard even make it into the club? No, he didn't want to dwell on that. At that moment, what he needed to do was concentrate on Adam and Adam's welfare. The few brave souls who stood in his way were shoved to the side unceremoniously. They stumbled backward and cussed him out, but he didn't care. His emerald eyes fixed on the room in the back. It was one of the bedrooms used for the 'extra shifts'. It was there that he found Adam.

The blond was stretched out on the sheets, dried blood crusted on his alabaster skin. Jeff could barely breathe as he examined all of the wounds that the blond had accumulated. His wrists were terribly raw, he had bruises on his torso and his calves, and there was blood on him and on the sheets. It made Jeff's heart ache. Jeff fell down onto his knees beside the bed and stroked Adam's hair softly. Slowly, the blond's emerald eyes fluttered and turned to look at Jeff. Jeff assumed that Eve had issued him some Vicodin.

"Adam? Look at me, baby-boy." Jeff ordered. The blond was barely able to do as he was told. "What the hell happened to you? Why didn't you tell Vince?"

Adam blinked slowly. His eyes were hazed over as the drug-induced haze took over. "Vince left before Eve came in. He didn't even know that he was in the club."

"I still don't understand how he was able to make it past Mark and Hunter." Jeff said, frustrated.

"It doesn't matter, Jeff." Adam said softly. "Can you just take me home?"

Jeff shook his head. "No, I can't do that to you baby-boy. You're obviously drugged-up and I don't want you to be on your own. I'm sure that Phil wouldn't mind if you came back with me."

Adam shook his head slowly. "I don't want to be any trouble."

"You're not trouble, baby-boy." Jeff said softly. "Will you let me clean you up?"

Adam nodded. "Please?"

He watched the blond for a moment, before he rose and walked into the bathroom. He took a washcloth off of the counter and wet it, before he walked back into the bedroom and knelt down in front of the blond once more. He warned him that it would be a little bit cold, but Adam offered no answer. Slowly, Jeff rubbed Adam's skin with the washcloth. The dried blood flaked off and hit the bed, but some colored the water a distilled red. Nevertheless, Adam was soon clean. Jeff used what was left of untouched sheet to dry him off.

He was careful as he redressed the blond. He didn't want to injure him more than he already was. Adam kept mumbling about how he didn't want to be a bother, but Jeff ignored him. Really, it wasn't a bother at all. Jeff liked to take care of the blond. Jeff had always considered him like a brother and he wanted to make sure that he was taken care of. And once that Vicodin was out of Adam's system, he would hound the blond for answers until he found out the name of the bastard that had done this to him.

Finally, he buttoned the man's fly. That's when he noticed the crinkled twenty and five dollar bills on the bed beside him. The bastard didn't even have the decency to pay him in full! That seriously ticked Jeff off. He took the blond's wallet and tucked the money inside, before he slid it into Adam's jean pocket. And then, he slid one arm underneath Adam's and hoisted him to his feet. The blond let out a slew of unintelligible words, before he let his head bob to the side and rest on Jeff's shoulder.

"How many men were there, Adam?" Jeff asked softly. He didn't want to startle the blond, who had started to nod off in Jeff's embrace.

"What? Hmm…" Adam's head lolled to the other side and his blond hair fell in front of his face. "There were two of them, I think. The first… he handcuffed me to the bed… I think…"

From the way Adam's green eyes hazed over, Jeff knew that he could remember it all extremely clearly. "It's okay, baby-boy. You don't have to think about it anymore."

"Jeff?" Adam asked weakly.

"What is it, baby-boy?" Jeff asked. He used his free hand to stroke the blond's sweat-slicked locks.

"Can I come home with you?" Adam asked sweetly. It was obvious that he had totally forgotten his conversation with Jeff from earlier, but that was okay.

"Sure you can, Adam. Sure you can." Jeff said.

**THE NEXT DAY**

"Why did you do it, Adam?" Jeff asked. He sat in the chair beside Adam's bed. The blond had recently awakened from a Vicodin-induced slumber. "Why did you decide to take the extra shift?"

"I need the money, Jeff. Brielle won't be able to live if she doesn't have an operation to fix her heart." Adam said slowly. He still seemed extremely tired.

"There are other ways to earn money." Jeff said. "Ways that don't involve you becoming hurt like this."

Adam looked away. "Brielle had a heart attack. She needs it _now_. I can't wait to earn the money."

"At least tell me the name of the man who did this to you." Jeff tried to reason with him.

"You _know_ his name, Jeff. He's a pathological liar – even if I told you his name again, you know that he'd deny it if you confronted him about it." Adam said calmly.

"It would make me feel better if you would just confide in me. You know that you can trust me, don't you, Adam?" Jeff asked. He didn't like the silence that followed his question.

After a moment, Adam answered. "I _do_ trust you, Jeff."

Phil chose that moment to come into the spare bedroom that he had loaned to Adam. Immediately, the conversation between Jeff and Adam ended. Phil looked between them sheepishly, because he could tell from the looks on both of their faces that he had interrupted an important conversation. He had made Adam some food (or, rather, he had called his psycho ex-girlfriend AJ Lee over and _she_ had made a full spread for Adam) because he knew that Adam would need to eat if he wanted to keep his strength.

Phil set the tray down at the blond's bedside, before he made his exit. Jeff kind of felt bad about the fact that they had alienated the modeling manager and he knew that he would have to make up for it later, but right now his main concern was Adam. As soon as Adam saw his food, he started to dissect it like a man who had wandered in the desert his entire life and had just found a stream of clear, clean water. Jeff watched him eat for a moment, before he felt the need to speak up.

"Brielle wouldn't want you to do this to yourself, Adam." Jeff said. "Why haven't you called your mother? You know that she would do anything within her power to make this better."

"I never told her." Adam mumbled underneath his breath. Jeff could barely hear him.

"What?" Jeff asked for clarification.

"I never told my mother about the fact that I took the extra shift that first time. I was young and I assured her that I could make it on my own. She wouldn't have to worry about me. And she believed me." Adam looked down at the bed. "I couldn't tell her that I had let someone I thought that I loved take advantage of me."

Jeff took Adam's hand and held it in a gesture of comfort. "So, your mother doesn't know about the fact that she has a granddaughter? Why wouldn't you tell her?"

"I didn't want to disappoint her." Adam said simply.

Jeff looked down at his hands. He really didn't want to be the bearer of more bad news, but it had to be done. If not, it could cause even more hurt then was there before. "Adam, we need to talk…"

**OOOO**

**A/N:** What could Jeff need to talk to Adam about? Could it have to do with this mysterious man who continues to torment him? And who _are_ these two men that used Adam? One of their names is revealed, plus: how did his attacker make it into the club if he was banned, all in the next chapter! Please Review!


	8. Another Encounter

**Title:** Tiny Dancer

**World:** AU

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Drama

**Pair(s):** Randy/Adam, Jeff/Phil, Mike/JoMo, etc.

**Summary:** Adam is a dancer with a secret. Randy is a widower with a four-year-old child. When they meet, will love blossom? Or will someone be heartbroken?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone. I also don't own the lyrics used.

**Warning:** Slash, Exotic Dancing, Stripping, Violence, Mpreg, Slight Dub-Con, etc.

**Part:** 8/? – Another Encounter

**OOOO**

"What was it that you needed to tell me, Jeff?" Adam asked. The blond was suddenly wide-awake and could tell that Jeff was extremely uncomfortable.

"Vince told me that you refused the morning-after pill." Jeff said nonchalantly, but he continued to try and avoid Adam's eyes. "So there's a considerable chance that -,"

"But we don't _know_ that." Adam countered. He didn't want to believe that this could happen to him twice.

"Well, of course we don't know for _sure, _Adam. We won't be able to know for at least two weeks, maybe more. That's when the test would be most accurate." Jeff said matter-of-factly.

"But we don't _know_ that." Adam continued to rant. Maybe, if he continued to deny it, it would make it all a horrible lie.

"Yeah, Adam. We don't know." Jeff appeased him. It wouldn't make it any better if he upset the blond.

**OOOO**

Hunter winced. He could taste the bitter copper of blood in his mouth. He let out a soft moan as he rolled over, only to have a sharp flare of pain arise in his shoulder. Weakly, he turned his head so that he could see a blood-red flower that had stained his white button-down shirt. Damn it! That little bastard had actually shot him! If he didn't feel like he was about to keel over from a sheer combination of nausea, exhaustion, and pain, then he would have hunted down that little twerp and issued him a lesson on what's what. However, that's when he saw Mark.

His husband lay a few feet away in a similar situation. His breath was shallow and his eyes were closed, but every few breaths he would wince and moan softly. Hunter crawled over to his husband and almost fell over him when his shoulder gave out on him. Mark had been shot twice. Once in the chest and once in the stomach. And, from the looks of it, he had lost a considerable amount of blood. Hunter didn't have much time to waste. Slowly, methodically, he climbed to his feet and walked over to the bar. He knew that there was a phone behind the counter.

When he reached the counter, he stumbled and took out several bottles of expensive wines. He left a streak of dark blood in his wake as well. Taking the phone off of the hook, he held it in his left hand and dialed with the right. However, before he even managed to dial the '9', the phone fell out of his hand. He had absolutely no feeling in that hand. It terrified him. A sudden flare of pain reminded him that there was a bullet in his body, and that it had hit a considerable chunk of bone. Hunter obtained the phone once more and dialed.

"_911, what's your emergency?"_ The 911 operator asked. Hunter was panting and the only reason that he could stay on his feet was the fact that he knew that Mark was worse off.

"There's been a shooting." Hunter gave the name of the club and the address. "I've been shot in the shoulder. And there's another man, my husband, he's been shot in the chest and the stomach."

"_Okay, sir. I'll send an ambulance out there immediately."_ The 911 operator said. _"Can you tell me your name and the name of your husband?"_

"Hunter and Mark Calaway." Hunter answered. He was a little bit dizzy now.

"_Hunter? I need you to go over to Mark and put pressure on the wounds. Talk to him. Comfort him. But, most importantly, don't let him close his eyes. Can you do that?"_ The woman asked.

"Sure, I can do that." Hunter took the portable phone over to Mark, where he fell down to his knees and almost toppled over. "Mark? You awake, Mark?"

"Nnhh…" was the only answer that he received.

"_The ambulance should be there any minute, now. Hold on."_ The woman said.

"Okay." Was the only word that Hunter could force out, before his own eyes fell closed and he fell down beside his husband. He would just have to take her word for it…

**OOOO**

Mike and John walked down the aisles of Wal-Mart. This was their third visit to the store over the course of one week. This was mostly due to the fact that JoMo couldn't decide how he wanted to decorate the nursery. They already knew that it would be a little boy, so that was out of the way, but John didn't feel like the traditional blue and white. Maybe green and yellow would be better? Or maybe brown. John had always liked the color brown. It looked great on him, mostly in the many furs that he liked to wear.

In fact, he wore one of his infamous fur jackets now. That, and the five-thousand dollar jeans. It would only be a few more weeks now before he would be unable to fit in them anymore. John blinked out of his trance when he heard Mike call his name. They were in the baby aisle. The two men stood in front of several cribs, each between one hundred and three hundred fifty dollars. Quickly, they were able to find one that they liked. It was dark blue and silver. It even had a mobile that attached to the canopy.

Mike wrapped his arms around John's waist and rest his hands on the man's smooth stomach. He still couldn't believe that he was about to be a father. He had to admit that he had been a little bit skeptical when John had first told him about the baby, but now he could barely contain his excitement. Now, he wanted John to marry him. The ring had been bought, all he had to do was propose. That, and they had to come clean about their relationship to their friends. John still hadn't told Adam and Jeff about him, and that _did_ worry him a little bit…

"Mike, look at this!" Mike turned to John, who almost burst with his excitement. He had an old-fashioned teddy bear in his hands, with an obnoxious black bow tie around its neck. "Isn't it adorable?"

"Adorable is one word for it. I think that its eyes follow me, John. It's actually kinda creepy." Mike said honestly. The eternal smile on the bear's face kind of unnerved him.

"You don't like it?" John stuck his bottom lip out. He looked truly upset by this fact.

Mike shook his head. "Not really."

"Fine." John set the teddy bear back onto the shelf. "What about this one?"

Now, John had selected a white teddy bear with big blue eyes. Actually, it was kind of cute. A major improvement from the last one, at least. "I think it's cute. How much is it?"

John looked at the price tag on the bear. "It's five dollars and fifty cents. I think that we'll have to buy that, don't you?" Before Mike could answer, John tossed the bear into the basket.

The two continued to walk in silence. They decided on a changing table, which matched the color of the crib. They also selected paint from the home remodeling center that would match the pattern on their new furniture. It was a little too early to start buying clothes for the baby, because they didn't know what size he would be and didn't want to buy a whole wardrobe that the baby wouldn't fit in. Once they had all that they had come for, they checked out and took the stuff out to the car.

John wanted to help Mike to put the stuff into the back of Mike's truck, but the arrogant brunette wouldn't allow him to do so. He said that, since he was pregnant, he should kick back and relax. For once in his life, he should allow someone else to take care of him. After a moment, JoMo relented and climbed into the passenger seat of the car. Mike entered the car a moment later and started the engine. JoMo had his eyes closed, but it was obvious that he was still awake. Mike didn't want to disturb him, so John had to be the one to talk first.

"I still want to work." His eyes were closed, but he could feel Mike's eyes on him. He knew that the brunette was just worried about him, but it still made him uncomfortable. "You know – at the club. I still want to work."

Mike shook his head. "You know that I don't like that idea, John. I don't like all those men having their eyes on you, or the fact that it's so easy to break into the club…"

"What?" John's eyes snapped open. He fixed Mike with his best scowl. "Who broke into the club?"

"They don't know his name." Mike shook his head. "However, they do know that he shot both of the bouncers so that he could have a 'visit' with one of the dancers in the back."

"You can't be serious. Who would be that sick?" John asked.

"I don't know, babe. I don't know." Mike said. "And, if you have to go back to work, promise me that you'll be careful."

John nodded. "I'll be careful, Mike. I promise."

"Good." Mike said.

**OOOO**

Brock stood in front of Vince McMahon's desk. The faint outline of handcuffs could be seen in his back pocket. He was a bit frustrated, because he had waited for well over twenty minutes for the official to arrive, and only _now_ did he hear that Vince had been in an official meeting and was running a little bit late. Finally, the silver-haired man came into his office and took a seat behind his desk. He offered no explanation for his tardiness. He rifled through his paperwork, before he turned and faced Brock.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Lesnar?" Vince asked curtly. "Was Adam not satisfactory to you? You also failed to comply with our rules. You didn't wear a condom _and_ you tore him."

Brock smirked cruelly. "If it was such a concern that your little pansy would tear like a piece of paper, then you should make it your mission to find more durable merchandise."

Vince frowned. He didn't really have time to deal with the likes of Brock Lesnar. Not when his two best bouncers were in the hospital and he currently had emergency custody of their five-year-old daughter, Lilly. "Mr. Lesnar -,"

Brock shook his head. His smile never fell. "No. I'll save you the trouble, Vince. Find me a dancer that can take a little punishment, and I'll be his regular customer. You'll never have to see me again."

Vince raised an eyebrow. He had to admit that that was an interesting proposal. "Fine." He pressed the button on the intercom. "Eve, send in Tyson Kidd."

Barely five minutes later, a lithe brunette was sent into Vince's office. Vince motioned to him, which caused Brock to turn around and look at the dancer that Vince had selected for him. Brock had to admit that he was rather cute. A young thing with a cherub-like face. Brock could have a lot of fun with him. Tyson walked over to him and flashed him his best smile, before he took him by the arm and led him back to the bedroom that Brock had first abused Adam in. It looked like the fun was about to begin.

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Another chapter down! So, now you know who handcuffed Adam to the bed and the fate of Mark and Hunter. More will be revealed in the next chapter! Please Review!


	9. A New Client

**Title:** Tiny Dancer

**World:** AU

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Drama

**Pair(s):** Randy/Adam, Jeff/Phil, Mike/JoMo, etc.

**Summary:** Adam is a dancer with a secret. Randy is a widower with a four-year-old child. When they meet, will love blossom? Or will someone be heartbroken?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone. I also don't own the lyrics used.

**Warning:** Slash, Exotic Dancing, Stripping, Violence, Mpreg, Slight Dub-Con, etc.

**Part:** 9/? – A New Client

**OOOO**

"John? Finally, someone actually arrives to work on time!" Vince exclaimed. The silver-haired club owner was about to have a heart attack from sheer stress because it was almost time to open the club and no dancers had arrived.

"Where is everyone else?" John asked. He took off his shades and hooked them into the pocket of his fur jacket. "And I thought _I_ was running late. The shift starts in fifteen minutes!"

Vince shook his head. "You think that I don't know that? Seriously, two bouncers are shot and suddenly it's the end of the world. Not that I'm not extremely sorry about their condition and wish them the best, but I have a business to run."

"Understandable." John nodded. It was kind of sad that no-one ever looked at the club from Vince's point of view. It was his entire life. However, all it would take was one day of bad business for the funds to capsize.

"I mean, Brock totally tore into Tyson. I told him to take the day off, 'cause I think he may need stitches after that one. And then there was Cody, who mysteriously fell down some stairs and shattered his knee." Vince said.

"I always believed that Cody was a little clumsy." John offered nonchalantly.

"Yeah, I'll admit to that. And a bit overconfident too. But to fall down fifteen stairs for no reason at all?" Vince asked.

"That is a little bit unusual." John said.

"It's a little bit more than _unusual_." Vince said. "Seriously, John. You, Jeff, and Adam are all that I have left. I can't offer you much. But there will be a _fat_ bonus in your check if you can somehow pull this off."

"Seems fair." John sniffed. "Just one question."

Vince nodded. "Ask away."

"Where are Jeff 'n Adam?" John asked slowly. All of the color drained out of Vince's face as he was reminded of the fact that John was, in fact, the only dancer who had showed up for work that day.

"Seriously, one would think that I'm working with a bunch of pre-school children. Is it that difficult to show up to work?" Vince frowned. "You – get changed and ready for your shift. I'll _call_ them and tell them to get their asses in gear."

John didn't say a word. It really wasn't worth it. Vince's mind was already elsewhere as he dialed the number to the house that Jeff shared with his boyfriend, Phil. Really, there was no use in denying it like he did. He never left the club with anyone else and continuously turned down offers to make more money in the extra shift. He didn't even notice when John left his office in order to make himself ready for his own shift. He had one hand on his belly as he wondered just how many monsters would show their faces under the cover of darkness…

Vince didn't mince words as he _ordered_ Jeff to haul his pretty-boy ass into work or he could kiss his job bye-bye. Jeff didn't hesitate. He swore that he would be into work in less than ten minutes. As for Adam, well, the two had a heated argument on the other end of the line that Vince didn't think that he was supposed to overhear. Finally, Jeff relented and said that Adam would be there as well. Vince ended the call before another word could be said. He ran a hand over his face and huffed exasperatedly. He was too old for this.

Suddenly, he felt a little hand touch his knee. He swiveled his chair to the side and looked down at the little child who stared at him with her heartbreakingly green eyes. Fluffy blond curls sat idly on her shoulders, with two big, almost _gaudy_ black velvet ribbons to hold them in place. Absolutely adorable, she was the ideal mixture of both of her fathers. Also, she was too young to understand exactly what had become of them. All Vince had told her was that they had several booboos that only the doctors in the hospital could fix. Thankfully, she had believed him.

"Uncle Vince?" Lilly asked him sweetly. He had a book in her hands that looked much too big for her small body. "Would you read me a story, Uncle Vince?"

"Sure, sweetheart." Carefully, Vince lifted the child into his lap and brushed the blond hair out from in front of her face. "What do we have here? _Green Eggs and Ham_. An excellent selection."

"I like Sam." Lilly announced.

Vince smiled and kissed the crown of her head, watching as she snuggled down on his lap and rest her head on his chest. She deserved a better caretaker. "I like Sam, too."

**OOOO**

"I don't want you to work the extra shift today, Adam. You're already hurt and who knows what kind of sick, twisted bastards will want to use your body today." Jeff said.

Adam narrowed his eyes at his friend. He felt like he was coming down with a cold and the _last_ thing that he needed was a lecture from the rainbow-haired enigma. "What are you, my mother?"

Jeff raised one pierced eyebrow. Often, it seemed like there wasn't an inch of that man what wasn't pierced. "Excuse me? Where the hell did that come from?"

"I can take care of myself. I don't need your shit." Adam hissed viciously.

Jeff's eyes widened and a flash of pain could be seen in the emerald depths. "I watch out for you for five years and -,"

Adam shook his head. His blond locks fanned out around his face. "Hey, I never asked you to watch out for me! I'm almost thirty-five, Jeff. I don't need a babysitter!"

On the inside, Adam was screaming at himself. Where the hell was all of this rage coming from? He knew for a fact that he wasn't mad at Jeff. All Jeff had ever done was try and make his life a little bit easier. He had held off all of the men that had wanted a shot at Adam after he found out about Brielle, had literally beaten a man until he was blue in the face when he made a lewd comment about Adam's outfit, and had been a wonderful uncle to Adam's baby. And what had Adam offered him in return? Cold indifference.

When Adam finally snapped out of his reverie, he saw that Jeff was violently stuffing his clothes into his duffel bag. He mumbled something about finding another locker room, and in another instant, he had vanished. Adam felt like a hole had been drilled into his heart. What the hell had he just done? Slowly, he turned around to face John, who also wore a stunned look. He shook it off and continued to slide into his tear-off leather pants. If Adam wasn't seeing things, they looked to be a little tight around the hip and lower stomach area…

"Remind me to never tick you off." John said sarcastically. "I mean, really. Jeff may seem a bit controlling, but sometimes, we need to be controlled. What would you have done if he hadn't been there for you and Brielle?"

Adam looked down at his hands. He felt ashamed of himself. "I honestly don't know."

"You should talk this out with him. It's foolish to let such a great friendship get thrown to the wolves over something as stupid as a few thousand dollars." John said honestly.

Adam nodded hesitantly. "You're right, John. I'll make sure that I talk to him after the show."

The show went off without a hitch. Luckily, there were no more attacks. A few bar brawls, but that was to be expected. After all, a bunch of drunk men in such a confined space could only play nice for so long. Adam's dancing was a little less enthusiastic, but as long as he walked across the stage in virtually no clothes, it didn't really matter to the patrons. A violent wave of nausea came over him as the spotlights burned into his eyes and he swayed a bit on his feet, almost losing his balance. But he caught himself before anyone could notice and continued.

The blond couldn't help but smile when he saw that Randy was, once again, in the audience. He wasn't there with Mike and Phil, which kind of shocked Adam. Randy didn't strike him as the kind of man who would come to this kind of establishment on his own. From the house that he lived in, he looked like he led a cookie-cutter lifestyle. A model-type wife, a beautiful little girl, and another child on the way… it was the kind of life that Adam had often dreamed of. Sadly, that was a reality that was out of reach for the blond.

After the show was over, Adam didn't keep his promise to JoMo. In fact, tracking down Jeff was the last thing on his mind. He raced out after Randy, dressed only in a pair of loose jeans that hung a little low on his waist. Belatedly, he realized that the stage hand had handed him Jeff's jeans instead of his own. While Adam weighed a little bit more than Jeff did, Jeff had a larger waist. Adam shoved his feet into some tennis shoes as he ran to catch up with Randy, who was walking toward his car.

"Hey, Randy! Wait a second!" Adam called after the tanned man.

"What is it?" Randy asked, before he turned around and saw Adam. "Oh, hey Adam. What do you need?"

Adam, breathless, stopped a few feet away from the brunette. "I just wanted to thank you for patching me up the other day. You didn't have to do that."

"What should I have done? Let you bleed all over the place?" Randy chuckled. "It really wasn't a problem. Don't worry about it." And then, he noticed the time. "Do you need a ride home?"

Adam nodded. "But, don't you have to get home to Alannah?"

Randy was impressed that Adam had remembered her name. "Yeah, but she won't be awake for another hour or so. Go grab your stuff and I'll give you a ride home."

Adam smiled. It was vibrant and it made Randy's heart melt. "Okay."

**OOOO**

"Ouch! That fucking _hurts_. Let go of me you bastard!" Jeff hissed. His kicked out brutally, but was unable to defend himself as his wrists were handcuffed behind his back and attached to one of the metal bed posts.

"Just shut that pretty mouth of yours. I can think of a much better use for it." The man smirked darkly. "You'll enjoy this. Now, suck, bitch."

Three fingers were forcibly shoved into Jeff's mouth, while the man's other hand trailed down his body and tore his shirt off, followed by his pants and his boxers. Now, he sat there, totally naked and exposed. The man's smirk never faltered as he spread Jeff's legs apart and forced the first finger into Jeff's virgin hole. Jeff forced his eyes closed and tried not to think about what was happening. This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. Maybe, if he told himself that enough, it would finally make it true…

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Poor Jeffy! We find out the identity of Adam's other attacker in the next chapter, as well as updates as to Mark and Hunter's respective conditions. Hopefully, someone will find Jeff before the man does some serious damage… find out in the next chapter! Until then, please review!


	10. Tell Me The Truth

**Title:** Tiny Dancer

**World:** AU

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Drama

**Pair(s):** Randy/Adam, Jeff/Phil, Mike/JoMo, etc.

**Summary:** Adam is a dancer with a secret. Randy is a widower with a four-year-old child. When they meet, will love blossom? Or will someone be heartbroken?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone. I also don't own the lyrics used.

**Warning:** Slash, Exotic Dancing, Stripping, Violence, Mpreg, Slight Dub-Con, etc.

**Part:** 10/? – Tell Me The Truth

**OOOO**

Adam raced back inside, anxious to collect his stuff as fast as he could so that Randy wouldn't have to wait for him. It was extremely nice for Randy to offer him a ride home, after all, and Adam didn't want to be a bother. He didn't even think about the fact that he had told John that he would talk to Jeff before he left. In fact, the memory of the confrontation that he had had with the smaller blond seemed to have left him as well. All he cared about, all he could focus on, was that ride home.

He raced back into the locker room, only to skid to a halt when he saw the scene within. John stood in front of the mirror, his shirt rolled up so far that it bunched around his pectorals, and he smoothed his hands over his belly. However, what had attracted Adam's attention was the small, subtle curve to the tanned skin underneath his hand. Adam couldn't tear his eyes away. It took John a moment to realize that he wasn't alone, but when he did, he nearly had a heart attack and rolled his shirt down as fast as he could.

"John… you're not… are you?" Was all that Adam could ask. He found it extremely difficult to force out full sentences, but John seemed to understand.

The flamboyant brunette nodded slowly. "I am." But he soon added, "Please, don't tell Vince. Mike just lost one of his clients and his check was cut in half, so I really need the money."

"John," Adam said with brutal honesty. "Do you know what this business does to families? Have you told Mike that you used to work the extra shift? Is he okay with that?"

"No. I didn't tell him." John narrowed his chocolate eyes at Adam. "He doesn't need to know."

"What are you afraid of? So, you've been with a few other men…" Adam trailed off when John looked at him blandly.

"Twenty." John elaborated. "I've been with _twenty_ other men."

Adam shook his head. "That's when Jeff found you, I know. But listen, John… it's better to let him know now then to wait for someone else to tell him later. I know that for a fact."

It was true. Two years before Mark and Hunter had married, Hunter had had a brief stint with Adam while Adam was pregnant with Brielle. Adam had cared about Hunter and vice versa, but there hadn't been any actual love there. And when Hunter had found out about the father of Adam's baby and how she had been conceived, he bailed. Adam didn't really blame him. Hunter was young at the time, only thirty-six years old. He was a bodybuilder with a future. He didn't need to constantly worry about a sick baby.

At the very idea of what that bastard had done to him, Adam felt his stomach turn. In fact, he hadn't felt well all night. It wasn't anything that he was extremely concerned about, but it was just enough to be an annoyance. Adam tried to shake it off and turned his attention back to John, who shifted from side to side uncomfortably. He had his arms wrapped around his midsection as if to defend his unborn baby from an unknown attacker. Adam smiled a little bit at that. He had been the same way with Brielle.

"Just… at least tell me that you'll _think_ about my advice, John. We've been friends for a lot of years now and I'm just worried about you." Adam said carefully. "I don't want him to hurt you."

John's chocolate eyes flickered up and locked with Adam's emerald eyes. "He won't hurt me. He even wants to marry me and take me out of the business. _That's_ how much he cares about me."

Adam nodded. "Then don't let anyone take that away from you. Burying the past won't make it disappear."

"I'll talk to him." John finally relented. "By the way, have you seen Jeff? I overheard one of the clients talking to Vince about buying out Jeff's services, but Jeff said that he wasn't interested."

Adam shrugged. "I haven't seen him." Slowly, the blond started to collect his stuff.

"Don't you care that he could be hurt?" John asked. He was astonished at how detached the blond was acting.

Adam looked at John, a blank stare on his face. "Jeff's a big boy. He can take care of himself."

And with that, Adam raced out to go catch Randy before he became tired of waiting and drove off without him.

**THREE HOURS LATER**

Jeff let out a low moan as he tried to move his stiff body. It took a minute for all of the memories to rush back, but when they did, all of the color drained out of his face and he was barely able to roll over and reach for the trash can before he brutally emptied the contents of his stomach. When all that was left was dry heaves, he rolled back onto his back and squeezed his eyes closed. He didn't want to look at all of the blood that drenched the mattress and the wooden floor. It made him sick.

Much to his annoyance, the bastard didn't even leave him one-hundred dollars for his services. Carefully, he slid off of the bed and fell down hard on his knees. His back let out a cry of protest as he leaned back and tried to use the bed as leverage to climb to his feet. When he was a teen, he had fallen off a ladder in his backyard and had broken his back. Ever since, his spine and the muscles that surrounded it had been extremely sensitive. Sucking in a harsh breath, he forced himself to his feet.

He dressed himself as fast as he could. He didn't even want to stick around to take a shower. At that moment, all he wanted to do was go home to Phil. So he slid into his shoes and found the keys to his car in his pants pocket, before he ran out into the abandoned parking lot and started his car. The drive back to Phil's house was incredibly lonely. There was much too much time for him to think about what happened, when all he wanted to do was forget. However, he drove up to the house and climbed out of the car.

"Jeff?" Jeff didn't realize that it was already well into the morning and that Phil would be so worried about him. The raven sat out on the front porch, a science fiction book in hand. "Jeff, what's the matter?"

"I… I…" Jeff cursed himself when he realized that he couldn't find the words. "I was r-," he cut himself off.

Phil saw the dried blood that stained Jeff's alabaster skin and his eyes widened considerably. "Jeff… C'mere, baby. It's okay. They can't hurt you anymore."

No-one could have blamed Jeff for how easily he melted into the safety of his lover's arms.

**OOOO**

"You have a visitor, Mr. Helmsley." The nurse said kindly.

Hunter turned to her, his eyes dull and lifeless. "Who is it?"

And then, _he_ walked into the room. Chris Jericho. The one who had shot down both Hunter and Mark before he entered the club. And, from what Hunter understood, had put Mark into critical condition. If Mark did happen to live, then he would most likely be crippled for the rest of his life. Hunter hated the fact that he wasn't strong enough to defend him. He hated that he hadn't been there for Mark when he needed him. Chris Jericho sat down in the chair beside him and kicked back, a smile on his face.

Hunter had talked with Vince earlier and Vince had promised him that he would bring Lilly to the hospital later in the week. She wouldn't be able to see Mark, not that she would understand his condition anyway. Hunter's condition would improve, however. He would never have full mobility in his shoulder, but it would get a little bit better over time. He was sure that seeing his baby would make it better, though. Somehow, seeing that little girl's cheerful smile seemed to make life that much easier to bear.

Chris leaned forward and offered Hunter a brutal smirk. "You and I need to talk."

"About what?" Hunter asked more than a little skeptical.

"Adam."

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Sorry this chapter is so short, but it's kind of a bridge chapter that builds off the last one. I promise the next one will be longer! Please Review!


	11. Healing Love

**Title:** Tiny Dancer

**World:** AU

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Drama

**Pair(s):** Randy/Adam, Jeff/Phil, Mike/JoMo, etc.

**Summary:** Adam is a dancer with a secret. Randy is a widower with a four-year-old child. When they meet, will love blossom? Or will someone be heartbroken?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone. I also don't own the lyrics used.

**Warning:** Slash, Exotic Dancing, Stripping, Violence, Mpreg, Slight Dub-Con, etc.

**Part:** 11/? – Healing Love

**OOOO**

Jeff went to the bathroom and stood in front of the full-body mirror. A dark shadow stained his otherwise handsome face. Phil hesitated in the doorway, unsure of what to do next. He wanted to be of assistance, but he also didn't want to make Jeff feel as if he had been backed into a corner. Finally, he left the room, only to come back a few minutes later with a fluffy white towel in hand. Jeff looked at it blankly. Obviously, he didn't want his blood to soil the clean, white fabric. Phil shook it off and handed it over to him.

Jeff looked at him sadly. "Could you… could you wait outside? I just… I don't want to…" It was obvious that he had difficulty with the words that he wanted to say.

Phil nodded. He had a look of sullen realization on his face. "Actually, I'll wait downstairs. I'll leave some fresh clothes outside of the bathroom door, okay? Just leave those in the bathroom."

Jeff was thankful that Phil had acquiesced to his wishes, even if it was obvious that they hurt him. "Thank you."

Phil didn't answer. He left the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Shakily, Jeff set the towel onto the marble counter and started to lift his shirt over his head. As he did so, he revealed several bruises and cuts that would soon form scars. Gently, he brushed his hand over a small cut over his abdomen that still bled freely. What the hell had that bastard done to him? Hesitantly, he looked down at his belt and his jeans. He could still feel the dried blood that was caked onto his skin. It made him feel soiled and nauseated.

Carefully, Jeff took off the rest of his clothes and tossed them into the hamper. He knew that Phil would come by later and wash them, most likely while Jeff was otherwise occupied. Now, Jeff turned around and started the water. He turned it on as hot as it would come and slid under the spray, allowing it to wash off the reminders of that horrific experience. Is that what Adam felt when he was attacked by Chris? Jeff shuddered just to think about it. He reached down and took hold of a fresh washcloth, which he lathered with scentless soap and started to scrub himself.

If it was possible, he most likely removed several layers of skin as he tried to remove that bastard's scent from all over his body. A thin stream of pink water swirled down the drain as the blood that was caked onto his skin slid off and all that was left was the burning, painful reminder of what had occurred in that room. Jeff turned off the water. He stepped out of the shower and dried himself off with the towel, careful to avoid some still-sore areas. True to his word, Phil had left him some fresh track pants and a loose white t-shirt to put on after his shower.

When Jeff came back downstairs, Phil sat on the couch with the television turned on low. "Hey." He said weakly.

Phil barely even turned to face him. "Hey."

Jeff looked down at the floor and tucked his still-wet hair behind his ear. "Can I… can I ask a question, Phil? And I don't mean to upset you; I really don't… but… _please_?"

Finally, Phil turned the television off and turned around so that he could look at Jeff. He tucked one leg under his body to make himself a little bit more comfortable. "Sure. Ask away."

"Would you be really mad if I moved into the spare bedroom?" Jeff forced out after several minutes of silence.

Phil bit down on the inside of his mouth. Jeff could see that he was clearly hurt by the idea. "No. Go ahead."

Jeff watched as Phil slid off the couch and started to lace his sneakers. "Phil? Where are you going?" Jeff didn't receive an answer, so he decided to ask again. "Where are you going, Phil?"

Phil looked back at him hesitantly. "I just need a breath of fresh air. Go ahead and move your stuff into the spare bedroom." Phil walked toward the door, but made sure to toss over his shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll be back."

Jeff seemed a little slow to believe that, but he finally nodded. "Okay."

A few minutes after Phil left, Jeff went back upstairs and walked into the bedroom that he used to share with Phil. He was terrified to allow Phil to see how truly broken he was. Once he entered inside, he was immediately assaulted by the comforting scent of his lover. Quickly, he took a few outfits out of his closet and threw them onto the bed. He also took his cologne and nail polishes off of the dresser. With his other hand, he took hold of the laces of two sets of his shoes. He carried all of this into the spare bedroom.

The spare bedroom was small, but it seemed incredibly spacious and it was all his own. He hung the clothes in the closet and set the shoes inside of the closet on a small shelf. And then, Jeff sat down on the bed and buried his face in his hands. His body had started to ache incredibly. Maybe Phil had a bottle of Tylenol in his medicine cabinet. Jeff slid off of the bed and walked into the bathroom down the hall. He took some Tylenol and swallowed it down with a mouthful of water. And then he went back to the bedroom and went to bed to try and sleep the pain away.

**OOOO**

"John." Mike looked at his boyfriend honestly. "I think that we need to talk."

All of the color seemed to drain out of John's handsome face. He frowned and allowed Mike to haul him down the hall and into their den. "What do we need to talk about?"

Mike smiled sweetly at him and all of the tension seemed to flow out of John's body. "I have something that I wanted to ask you for awhile, John. And I think that now is the perfect time."

John blinked slowly. He watched as Mike reached into his back pocket and took out a black velvet box from his back pocket. "Mike…"

"John – you're perfect. You're so beautiful that I can't define it with words. And this baby will be beautiful as well. I want us to be together forever and raise this baby together. So John, will you marry me?" Mike asked.

Tears bubbled in John's eyes. "Mike…"

Mike's smile fell. "What's the matter, baby?"

"I have a confession to make and I'm not sure how you're gonna take it." John said lowly.

Mike rose off of his knee and set the box on the table. He took both of John's hands and locked eyes with his boyfriend. "What's the matter, baby? You know that you can tell me anything."

John smiled a weak, watery smile. "I didn't want to tell you this, but I have to. I used to work the extra shift at the club, which is basically a fast track to sell your body for money. I was with twenty men before Jeff finally saved me."

Mike was silent for a moment and John was sure that this would be the deal breaker. But then, Mike leaned forward and kissed him. "I'm so sorry about that, baby. You deserved better. And I swear that I won't let anyone hurt you."

John smiled and felt a few tears start to leak from his eyes. Carefully, Mike leaned forward and swiped the tears away with the pad of his thumb. And then, he bent down and scooped John into his arms, cradling the smaller brunette close to his chest and carrying him over to their couch. With an ease that rivaled even the most fluid of dancers, Mike slid John onto the black leather couch and turned him around so that he was stretched out over the cushions. He then knelt down by the side of the couch and tapped their foreheads together.

John was sure that this was love. How could it not be? If Mike could see past the fact that so many other men had touched him, been inside of him, had _soiled_ him… where would he find someone else like Mike? Slowly, Mike leaned forward and toyed with John's curly brown hair. John's smile never faltered. He loved to feel Mike's hands all over him, from his head to his actual body. It just felt so perfect and made him feel so safe, it was difficult to put into words. Mike took the blanket off of the back of the couch and put it on John's lithe body.

John locked his eyes with Mike's. "Yes."

Mike seemed to be broken out of a silent reverie by this one word. "What?"

John looked at the ring that still sat on the table behind them. Suddenly, it all seemed to fall into place. Mike could barely contain his beaming smile. "Yes, I'll marry you."

Quickly, Mike walked over and retrieved the ring. He took it out of the box and walked over to the chocolate-haired man who was still stretched out on the couch. He took John by the hand and slid the ring onto his finger. It glistened and gleamed and it fit him perfectly. And then, Mike carefully climbed over John and snuggled down beside the exotic dancer. John slowly turned over and Mike took a bit of the blanket to cover himself. The two stared into each other's eyes, content to just be together.

"So beautiful." Mike took John's left hand and kissed it before he kissed the ring as well. And then he touched a hand to the small swell of John's stomach. "So, so beautiful."

A dark blush spread over John's cheeks as Mike lavished his face in soft, subtle kisses. "You really think so?" He asked hesitantly.

Mike drew back, a small smile on his face. "I _know_ so."

John put his free hand over Mike's on his stomach. "I went to the doctor earlier. She gave me the gender of the baby." John said calmly, looking down at his stomach with love.

Mike looked into John's eyes. "What did she say that it was?"

John's hand moved up and brushed over the stubble on Mike's cheek softly. "She said that it's a little boy. And I even have a name in mind for him." Mike looked at him expectantly. "I want to name him Doan Michael Mizanin."

Mike's smile broadened. "I like that name."

Mike could see the rush of relief that washed over John know that he confessed to his history. He was a little hurt that John thought he wouldn't love him as much because he had been with other men, but he didn't let it show. They could talk about that later. Right now, he cradled his brunette to his chest and softly stroked his delicate chocolate curls. Within minutes, John was fast asleep. The subtle rise and fall of his chest was like a lullaby to Mike, and soon, the other man was fast asleep as well.

**OOOO**

"Hey, sweetheart." Adam looked down at Brielle, who blinked at him slowly. She had an oxygen mask on, so she couldn't talk back, but he knew that she liked it when he talked to her. "Mommy promised that he would come visit."

Weakly, Brielle reached out and took his hand. Her eyes were wide and scared.

"Shh… it's okay, baby. Don't be scared. Mommy's here now. I promised that I would be here and I'm here now. There's no reason to be scared. Mommy will always be there for you." Adam said softly and watched as she calmed.

Just then, the door opened and a tall, muscular brunette walked in. "Is this Brielle Copeland's room?"

"Yes." Adam nodded. "Who are you?"

"I'm John Cena. I have a present here on behalf of All World Productions." John set the flowers on the windowsill. "You're Adam Copeland?" Adam nodded. "We need to talk."

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Please Review!


	12. The Sad, Sad Truth

**Title:** Tiny Dancer

**World:** AU

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Drama

**Pair(s):** Randy/Adam, Jeff/Phil, Mike/JoMo, etc.

**Summary:** Adam is a dancer with a secret. Randy is a widower with a four-year-old child. When they meet, will love blossom? Or will someone be heartbroken?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone. I also don't own the lyrics used.

**Warning:** Slash, Exotic Dancing, Stripping, Violence, Mpreg, Slight Dub-Con, etc.

**Part:** 12/? – The Sad, Sad Truth

**OOOO**

Adam looked at the unfamiliar man uncertainly. It wasn't that he didn't _want_ to trust him, but more that he didn't remember how to trust. It had once come so naturally to him, but now it was difficult. "What?"

"I want to tell you a story about myself. May I sit here?" John motioned to the chair on the other side of Brielle's bed. Adam nodded absently. "Thank you. Now, I was once in a situation like this. But I had two children."

Adam didn't understand. Did he have two sick children? Did he lose one, or both of them, to a sickness? "Were they ill?" Adam asked, confused.

John shook his head. "No, they weren't sick. They died in a fire. My son, Nathan, died in the initial blast. And my daughter, Cynthia, died of smoke inhalation. She held on for three days before she was finally able to find peace."

Adam shook his head. No child should have to endure that. "I'm extremely sorry for your loss."

John flashed a shattered smile. "It's not your fault. It's my burden to bear."

Adam looked down to Brielle. "I wish that I could do more for her. I just… I don't have the money. She needs an operation that will save her life and I just can't afford it."

John looked over at Brielle as well. "Can I tell you something, Adam?" Adam turned to look at him, a receptive look on his face. "I have more money then I know what to do with, but none of it could have saved Cynthia."

"What does that mean?" Adam asked. He was suddenly furious. "You don't think money can save Brielle?"

"No. The exact _opposite_, actually. I _know_ that there is a dollar amount on Brielle's head. I came here with the intent to help you. I want to offer you a way out. Just name a number." John said.

"It's a lot harder than you make it sound." Adam said. "I wish that I could just name a number, but I don't want to feel like I'm indebted to anyone. I'm my own man. I can take care of myself and my child."

That was what he _wanted_ to believe, but he knew that the truth was far from it. If he continued down this road, allowing other men to use and abuse his body, then he would become seriously hurt and he would be no closer to his goal. He couldn't do that to Brielle. He couldn't allow someone to come between them, not this late. Adam had sworn that he would protect Brielle forever and this was no way to start.

Adam felt extremely foolish. He didn't understand it, truthfully. What was it that was keeping him from allowing John to sign that check and hand him over the money to save his precious little baby? Was it pride? To hell with that. Adam didn't think that he had ever been too proud to accept a little bit of help. And then he remembered the _true_ reason that they were in this mess. He couldn't tell his mother that he had been raped.

Slowly, Adam leaned forward and brushed his hand over his baby's face. Her blue eyes fluttered, before they eventually fully fell closed. She was asleep in a matter of moments. It was a truly breathtaking, humbling sight. To know that she trusted him so fully that she would lay her life in his hands like this (not that she had much of a choice in her current condition) made him think twice about his foolish moment of hesitation.

"I'll accept your offer on one condition." Adam said finally. John leaned forward in his seat. He was eager to help Adam out and had resolved to do it, whatever the cost. "I'll pay you back. Every dime."

John was silent for a moment as he thought it over, but it was clear that Adam's determination would not be shattered. Finally, John nodded. "Okay, Adam. You have a deal."

**OOOO**

Phil never did come home.

Jeff was more than a little alarmed when he came downstairs several hours later and found the house totally abandoned. A shot of fear turned his blood to ice. Could Phil have just walked out on him? No. That didn't seem like Phil at all. Phil wasn't the kind of man to run away from situations. And he could turn even the worst odds into his favor. So this behavior was totally uncharacteristic of him.

However, the more Jeff speculated on it, the more that it made sense. To be totally honest, did he think that Phil would stick with him after he found out that he had had another man's hands all over him? Did he think that Phil would want second-hand merchandise? Jeff had never worked the extra-shift. He had only ever had one or two lovers before. But now, he was totally broken. And it felt horrible.

Jeff walked around downstairs, a ball of fear in the pit of his stomach. He hated this. Never before had he been afraid to be home alone. But now he had to double and triple-check all of the windows and the door to make sure that they were locked as tight as they could be. He didn't want to ever be caught with his guard down again. It made him feel weak and needy, and Jeff Hardy didn't _have_ to depend on anyone.

A half hour went by. Then an hour. Two more hours. Still, Phil wasn't coming home. Occasionally, Jeff would part the blinds so that he could look outside into the darkened driveway. Nothing. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he would have to call it like it was. Phil had left him. Jeff shook his head as he took out his phone. He needed someone to talk to, someone to comfort him, and who better than his older brother?

Jeff dialed the familiar number. "Hello?"

"_Jeff?"_ His brother's comforting southern accent came over the other end of the line. _ "Do you realize what time it is? I was tryin' to sleep."_ Matt mumbled slowly. _"What do you want, Jeffy?"_

"Am I bothering you, Matt? Because, if I am, then I can just call back at another time…" Jeff had never sounded so unsure of himself before. It kind of unnerved Matt.

"_What's the matter, baby bro? That little punk-ass didn't hurt you, did he? Because, if he did, I will come down there and personally shove my fist into his face so hard he'll be tasting the blood for weeks." _Matt hissed violently.

"No… he didn't hurt me. Well… he kind of did. But it wasn't his fault!" Jeff defended his boyfriend quickly when he heard a primal growl on the other end of the line. "It's my own damn fault."

"_Your fault? What did you do, Jeffy?"_ Matt asked, honestly confused.

"If I wasn't so damn weak, maybe people wouldn't walk all over me like they seem to love doing lately. Adam doesn't listen to me anymore and look where that got him. Mor ended up pregnant. And now I'm…" Jeff stopped.

"_Did someone hurt you, Jeff?"_ Matt asked. He sounded eerily calm and unnerved Jeff.

"No." The blond answered a little too quickly. He heard another primal growl from Matt. "Yes. Yes, I was hurt. Okay? Are you happy now?"

"_No. I'm not happy Jeff. Someone's hurt you and obviously that little punk-ass bastard isn't man enough to stand by you and try to help you. So, you know what? I think I'll be making a visit up there shortly. You need someone to watch out for you, Jeff. You always have."_ Matt said. _"And if you don't like it, oh well. That's the way it's gonna be. Okay?"_

Jeff was hesitant to answer. He felt like he had been backed into a corner. He had no other choice but to nod and say, "Okay."

"_Good. I'll see you in one week."_

With that, the call ended. Jeff sighed and tossed the phone across the room, before he laid out on his back and stared at the ceiling. That wasn't the way that he had intended that call to go at all. Now, not only did he have to worry about the fact that his boyfriend had most likely just walked out on him, but also his brother's imminent arrival. Could life get any more complicated?

Really, he should have known better than to ask that question.

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Sorry it took so long for me to update! Please Review!


	13. Phil's Return

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M (Mature)  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Strippers, Exotic Dancing, etc.

* * *

It was late in the afternoon. Phil must've been out for several hours, but he couldn't know for sure. He didn't take his watch with him. Now, he realized that that was a mistake. Phil ran a hand over his face and let defeat soak into his bones. What could he do? What could he do to make Jeff better? He wanted to be there for him, he really did. He just didn't understand how he could do that if Jeff continued to shoot him down at every turn.

Phil shook his head. He wondered if Jeff knew who it was that had attacked him, or maybe if it was someone that he had never met before. The defeat that he felt morphed into frustration, and then the frustration twisted into a sick pit of despair in the bottom of his stomach. It was time to head back home. Phil wasn't under any illusion that he could walk away from Jeff after all of this. And, to be totally honest, he didn't want to.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and turned around, ready to walk back to their house. It wasn't 'his' house anymore. Really, he hadn't considered it 'his' since Jeff had come into his life. It was their shelter, their refuge. Phil had left him there alone with all of the faith in the world in their security system. He knew that nobody would dare to hurt his boyfriend in their own home. And if they tried, well… Phil would have to take matters into his own hands.

Phil's phone buzzed in his front pocket. He frowned and pulled it out. It was a text from Mike, his co-worker at the model company. _Dude, where are you? Jeff is really worried. It's like whisper down the lane here._

For a moment, Phil wondered how Mike had found out that Jeff was worried about him, but then he brushed it off. _I just needed a breath of fresh air. I'm actually on my way back home now._

A few seconds later, the text came back. _Good. Johnny told me what happened to him. You need to be there for him, even if he thinks that he doesn't want you. He __does__ need you, Phil._

Phil didn't answer that text. He slid the phone back into his pocket and started the short walk back to the house that he shared with his boyfriend. When he arrived at the little house on the corner, he unlocked the front door and entered inside. He found Jeff on the floor, curled into a small ball in the corner. Jeff had dried tear tracts on his face and he looked terribly nervous. It didn't suit him at all.

However, when Jeff heard the door open, his head snapped back and he studied Phil with wide eyes. From the look on his face, Phil knew that Jeff hadn't anticipated that he would come back home. Phil just shook his head and took off his coat, hanging it on the coat rack beside the door. And then he walked back over and stood before Jeff. For a moment, an uncomfortable silence fell over them.

"You left, Phil. I didn't think that you would come back." Jeff whispered. It sounded so odd for him to be so unsure of himself, but it had been like that ever since the attack.

"I always intended to come back. Like I said, I just needed a breath of fresh air." Phil said slowly. He tried to look anywhere but at Jeff's face. "Look, I'll make dinner. If you don't want it, I'll just put it in the fridge."

Jeff nodded, still silent. But then, he said, "Is this how it's going to be from now on? Are _we_ going to be like this from now on?" Jeff sounded scared, but Phil refused to believe that that was true.

"I can only help you as much as you'll let me. The rest is on you." Phil said distractedly.

"Do you even care?" Jeff mumbled underneath his breath. Phil wasn't meant to hear, but he did.

Phil's eyes widened with shock, but then they narrowed. "How dare you think that I don't care? I fucking _love_ you, Jeff. How dare you even say that?"

The uncomfortable silence returned. However, this time, the tension between the two men could be cut with a knife. When Phil realized that Jeff wasn't about to say anything else, he shook his head, defeated, and stalked off. A few seconds later, the door to the bedroom that they used to share slammed closed. Jeff frowned and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. Would life ever return to normal?

* * *

"How dare you think that you can come in here after you almost took my husband from me and think that you can lecture me about Adam! You must have a lot of nerve, asshole." Hunter sneered at Chris.

Chris shook his head. "No, you don't understand. Why did I think that you would ever understand?" Chris leaned back into his chair and tipped his head back. "This isn't about Adam. Not really. This is about Brielle."

"Why would you ever drag that poor, innocent child into this mess?" Hunter asked. He wanted to hit Chris. Hard.

"She's _my_ daughter. And, to make it worse, she's sick." Chris explained sadly.

Hunter frowned. "I already know the entire story, Chris. You don't have to tell it to me again. And I'm sorry that Brielle is sick, but that's none of your business. You walked out on them and you _let_ her get this sick."

"That is so, so cruel. Why would you say something like that?" Chris asked him. He seemed to be incredibly insulted by those words. "Brielle is my baby. She's the only child that I have."

Hunter rolled his eyes. "That's _shocking_…"

Slowly, Chris rose to his feet and stalked around the bed where Hunter lay. Hunter shifted uncomfortably. He still had awhile before he would fully heal, so every movement that he made sent shockwaves of pain over his entire body. Hunter was sure that he actually pulled his stitches, because a red blossom appeared on his bandage and started to soak in until it would have fallen off.

Hunter tried to move away from Chris, but the pain that flared in his arm prevented that movement. Chris smirked down at him and put a hand on his bloody shoulder, pressing down just enough to cause Hunter's eyes to haze over with pain. With his other hand, he pinched the IV that had a morphine drip in it and cut off the flow of medication to Hunter's bloodstream. Hunter had no choice but the stare at him in terror.

"I will have my daughter. I will have Adam. And if you or your precious husband try to stand in my way, this little gunshot wound…" Chris pressed down hard. Hunter screamed. Chris smirked. "Well, it will be the least of your worries."


	14. No Secrets

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M (Mature)  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Strippers, Exotic Dancing, etc.

* * *

Adam frowned. It had been two days since he had taken John's offer and now Brielle was set to have her operation in two hours. He had wanted to be there for her, but the doctor had said if he didn't rest himself, he would be sedated. Adam sat in the booth in a 24-hour café, a coffee in hand. Slowly, he stirred the brown liquid to make sure that all of the creamer and sweetener dissolved. He really wasn't all that interested in his drink.

The beautiful blond barely even noticed when Randy walked into the café and came over to his booth. The tattooed man slid into Adam's booth and, for a moment, stared at him. Adam drank some of his coffee, before he set it aside and slowly allowed his eyes to travel over Randy's finely muscled body. He studied Randy, unsure of what to make of him. And then, he cracked a small smile.

"I think that this is the first time that we've met in a place outside of the club." Aside from that one time where Adam was tackled by Randy's mutt, however. "Is there a reason why you're still awake at 3:00 AM?"

"Actually, there is. John told me that I could find you here. He said that the doctor threatened to sedate you if you didn't head home for some rest. I didn't know that you're daughter was sick." Randy said to him.

Adam shrugged. He stared down at his coffee sadly. "Not many do. I don't like to publicize it. Brielle's been the target of a lot of heat for awhile, I don't want her to have to endure anymore."

"You haven't been at the club lately." Randy continued. "Did you quit?"

Adam shook his head. "No. I just took a few days off so that I can make sure that Brielle is okay."

"That makes sense." Randy said. He called the waitress over and ordered some coffee as well.

Suddenly, a question came to Adam's mind. "You said that John told you that you could find me here. How do you know John? Do you work with him?"

Randy chuckled. "Yeah. You could say that." The waitress came back with his coffee and Randy thanked her with a charming smile. "I'm his boss, actually. I'm also Phil and Mike's boss."

Adam smiled wistfully. "It must be fun to be at the top of the food chain."

"Sometimes." Randy confessed. "Other times, it feels like shit rolls up hill."

Adam chuckled. Why hadn't he realized that Randy was so funny before now? Maybe it was because they hadn't actually had any time to spend with one another before. Adam had always been busy with work and Brielle and Randy had his own life that he had to worry about. He had a beautiful little girl and he most likely had a wife, but he never mentioned her and Adam never asked.

Slowly, Adam turned his attention back to his coffee. He could feel that knot of tension form in his stomach. One hour and forty-five minutes now. And then there would be several hours of surgery… and then his little baby would finally be okay. He knew that he shouldn't be so stressed out. After all, Brielle was in the best hands at the moment. But he couldn't help it. Brielle was all that he had left.

"Where do you work?" Adam asked all of a sudden. He wanted to know more about Randy.

"I work for All World Promotions. It's a modeling agency that has a hand in different promotional companies all over the world. John Cena is a model. Phil and Mike are managers." Randy explained.

"How did you come to work for a modeling agency? That doesn't really seem like your style." Adam said.

Randy's smile fell a little bit. "My wife, Sam, was a model. She was one of the first models that AW ever hired. That was, of course, until she was killed in a head-on collision less than a month later."

Adam looked down, embarrassed. He didn't mean to make Randy relive that. "I'm very sorry to hear that. I shouldn't have asked…"

Randy shook his head. "It's not your fault. You didn't know."

A comfortable silence fell over them. One hour and thirty-five minutes. That was all that was left. That was all that stood between his daughter and her future as a healthy child. Randy looked down at his hand and his ice-cold blue eyes focused in on the ring that was still on his finger. It must've looked a little odd, he reasoned. After all, he had just confessed that his wife had died.

Actually, the real reason that he still wore the ring was because it was his last connection that he had to his wife. Well, the last connection that he had that wasn't Alannah. It was well-known that Randy absolutely adored his baby, but he knew that she wasn't her mother. Hell, he even knew that wearing that ring every minute of every day would never bring her back. It was just a comfort for him to do so.

For the third time in the course of twenty minutes, Adam checked his watch. Normally, Randy would be insulted. However, he knew that Adam was worried about his baby and he wouldn't rest until he was sure that she was okay. Randy knew that, if it where him in that situation, he would feel the exact same way. It was just an instinct. It was that primal need to protect those close to you. Randy understood that.

The waitress came back over to the table. "Will that be all for the two of you?" Both men nodded. "Would you like separate bills?" Adam was about to nod, but Randy shook his head.

"No. I'll take the bill this time." The waitress hesitated for only a moment, before she scribbled down the amount and passed it to him. "Thank you, sweetheart."

Adam watched him uncertainly as Randy flipped out a few bills and left them on the table. "You didn't have to do that. I can afford one little cup of coffee."

"Don't worry about it." Randy shook his head. He slid out of the booth and held out his hand. "Let me drive you home. I don't want you out alone in the dark."

Adam hesitated for only a moment, before he took the outstretched hand. "Okay."

* * *

The loud screech of the heart monitor filled the silence of the room. Almost immediately, a doctor and several nurses entered the room with a crash kit. Hunter lay on the bed, his head off to one side. His bare chest was exposed and the dressing on his gunshot wound was extremely bloody. The nurse put on a fresh pair of gloves and carefully peeled it away. Underneath, the wound was a fierce red color and there was blood smeared everywhere.

One of the nurses took out fresh gauze and wet it with saline, before she started to clean off the blood all over Hunter's chest. Meanwhile, the doctor took out a small pair of scissors and cut up the mangled stitches that had been torn when Hunter tried to jerk his body away from Chris. He sterilized a new needle and started to stitch up the gunshot wound. He pinched the skin together and made sure that it was bound securely.

Once he was finished, another nurse sterilized the stitches and covered it with a fresh, dry sheet of gauze. After that was done, they set up a new tube of IV and put a fresh bag of morphine on the hook. When the line was attached, it took a few seconds, but his heart rate slowly started to decline. Soon, the steady beat of his heart calmed down and the tension released for a body. For the moment, he was back to stability.

* * *

Jeff stood outside of Phil's bedroom. He was truly at a loss for what to do. He knew that what he had said to Phil was extremely hurtful, but it had been a defense mechanism. He didn't know how to handle what he felt, so he had lashed out at Phil. Jeff looked down, embarrassed. But he shook it off and walked over to Phil's bedside. The ravenette was asleep and stretched out on his side.

"Phil… please don't be mad at me. I'm sorry that I said what I did. I was just scared, that's all. Please, tell me that you believe me." Jeff said softly, even if he knew that Phil couldn't hear him.

When Jeff didn't receive an answer, he sighed. Slowly, he went down on the floor and stretched out on the hard wood. Curling his hands underneath his head, he closed his eyes and started to count backwards from ten. Within a few seconds, he was asleep…


	15. Take Me Out

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Strippers, Exotic Dancing, etc.

* * *

"You really didn't have to do this for me." Adam assured him. "I know my way around this town like it was the back of my hand. I'm sure that I would have made it home okay."

Randy looked at him out of the corner of his eye, before he turned his attention back to the wheel. "I just have a little bit of a sore spot for careless drivers out after dark."

Adam immediately fell silent and cursed his foolishness. "I'm sorry. I didn't think about that."

Randy flashed him a careful smile. "Don't worry about it. It's not like you were the driver that killed her." A pause. "Now, which road should I turn down?"

"You should make a left onto Ninth Street and then it will be the house all the way at the end." Adam told him. "Won't Alannah be worried about the fact that her Daddy is out so late?"

Randy's smile broadened at the mention of his little princess. "Alannah? Nah. She's used to the fact that I'm out at all times of the day. I think that it is because she understands that I suffer from IED."

"IED?" Adam looked at him, clueless.

"Intermittent Explosive Disorder. It started around the time that Sam died. I take medication for it and all that, but sometimes I have to remove myself from a situation and walk it off before I do or say something I'll regret."

"I think that we all have moments like that in our lives." Adam said. "But we don't always take ourselves out of them."

Randy smiled as he made the left turn onto Ninth Street and stared to look for Adam's house. "True."

A comfortable silence fell over them. Adam looked down at the clock. It was time. Brielle was now in the midst of the operation that would save her life. A rush of relief washed over Adam as he leaned back into his seat and closed his eyes. He was so thankful to John Cena for what he had done for him and his baby; he couldn't express it in words. Brielle would have a second chance at life now. For once, life hadn't totally screwed him over.

Randy pulled into the driveway and turned off the car. The comfortable silence continued. Adam fumbled in his back pocket for the keys to the front door, and when he found them, he slid out of the car and shut the door behind him. He made it all the way to the door before he remembered his manners. It was a horrific hour and Randy still had to drive all the way across town to make it home. Maybe he would want another cup of coffee for his efforts?

Adam unlocked his front door, went inside of the house, and unlocked it from the inside. He then tossed his keys onto the table on the inside of the door and walked back outside. Thankfully, Randy's car was still out there. It actually looked like he was trying to find the best way to turn around and head home from where he was. Adam put his best smile on his face and knocked softly on the door of Randy's car. Randy nearly leaped out of his skin.

"Would you like some coffee?" Adam offered him. "I mean, I know that we just came from the coffee shop and all… but you have a long drive ahead of you and I wanted to offer it to you anyway. Free of charge this time."

"I don't want to intrude. Besides, I don't want to feel like you're wasting your coffee on me." Randy told him. He set his map down and turned to face Adam fully.

"It's not a waste." Adam assured him. "But if it really bothers you so terribly, consider it me saying 'thank you'."

"I still don't know." Randy hesitated for a moment.

"I insist." Adam told him.

Randy shook it off. Adam seemed totally trustworthy, and besides, he really liked him. Maybe this could be the opening that he needed to ask him out sometime. "Okay. But just one cup of coffee."

"Oh, I'm sure that I'll be able to change your mind. I make the best Cup O' Joe in the entire tri-state area, and you can quote me on that one." Adam smiled confidently.

"I just might have to." Randy chuckled, before he followed the taller blond inside.

Adam's house was rather modest. It looked to be in a state of considerable disrepair, but at the same time, was incredibly neat and orderly. In order for him to turn on the air conditioner, he would have to turn the heat on as hot as it would come and then slam it toward the 'cool' notch. Several of the outlets in the house didn't work. There were cracks in the walls. It was incredible sad that this was considered 'habitable'.

Adam led him into the kitchen. The kitchen was a little bit better. On the far wall, there were counters with a built in sink, but there wasn't a dishwasher or a trash compacter. There were a few cabinets, which had frosted glass on the door, and Randy could see that they weren't very well filled. In fact, most of the food looked like it would be better suited for Adam's child, Brielle. All that was there for Adam was coffee.

Adam started to brew the coffee. He turned around and saw that Randy was about to sit at the table. "Wait! You don't want to sit there." Adam assured him.

"Why not?" Randy looked confused.

"The chair is actually broken. Most of the furniture in here is broken, actually." Adam rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Most of it has been fixed up from the junkyard. I don't really have all that much money, so…"

Randy shook his head. "I understand. You don't have to explain it to me. I'll just take a seat at one of the barstools by the counter. Are they okay?" Randy asked.

Adam smiled and nodded, thankful that Randy hadn't asked any questions. "Yeah. They're fine."

Adam fixed Randy his coffee the same way that he had had it in the coffee shop and set it in front of the younger man. The two talked for a little while about anything and everything. Randy delved a little bit into Adam's history and tried to find out about why Adam lived in that horrific house, but Adam didn't answer many of his questions and Randy didn't want to press. Finally, Randy realized what time it was.

"I didn't realize how late it was. I need to head home to Alannah." Randy set his cup into the kitchen sink. "Do you want to meet up at a restaurant tomorrow for dinner?"

"Are you asking me out on a date?" Adam asked, wide-eyed.

"Yeah." Randy confirmed. "I guess that I am."

"Then, yes. I would love to." Adam said.

Randy nodded. "Okay, then. I'll be over to pick you up at six-thirty."


	16. Pregnant

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Exotic Dancing, Strippers, Mpreg, etc.

* * *

Phil awoke to an extreme wave of nausea and an almost painful knot in his stomach. Slowly, he climbed out of bed, his feet narrowly missing Jeff's prone body, and he made a mad dash for the bathroom. He barely made it to the bathroom in time before he violently revisited what he had had for lunch and dinner the day before. The room swirled around him and he closed his eyes. There was an ache in the back of his head like it had been hit with a hammer.

Phil knew that it couldn't be caused by alcohol, because he was Straight Edge and part of that was that he didn't drink. And it couldn't be the food that he had eaten; because he had prepared all of that food himself and it had tasted fine. When it seemed like he had finished, he climbed to his feet and walked on wobbly legs over to the sink. He ran some water into a little Dixie cup and used it to rinse his mouth out. What could it be, then?

Briefly, he wondered if it could be… no, that couldn't be it. He shook the idea off like it was a bad taste in his mouth and tossed the Dixie cup into the trashcan by the toilet. As he made his way back to the bedroom, he tried to think of all of the possible things that it could be other than that first _impossible _idea. And the more that he considered it, the less _impossible _the idea seemed. It made his stomach turn.

Rather unceremoniously, Phil stretched out and plopped down onto the bed. The obnoxious creak of the springs echoed in the silence and woke Jeff. Jeff was immediately at attention. His eyes were wide open, but they were unfocused. He had a look of total shock on his face and he quickly rolled over onto his stomach and leaned on the end of the bed, before he used it to climb onto his knees. He looked at Phil, who laid face-down on the bed.

"Phil?" Jeff called out softly. Gently, he reached out and shook the smaller man's shoulder. "Philly? Are you okay? I heard a loud noise and I was worried that…"

Phil cracked one eye open and scowled. "The fuck? Jeff, do you even realize what time it is? And weren't you supposed to sleep in the spare bedroom?" Phil asked.

"I… I didn't want to sleep in there because you were mad when you went to bed, and you know that I hate to go to bed with unvoiced emotions." Jeff told him.

When Phil realized that he wasn't about to sleep anymore, he rubbed at his eyes and sat up in bed. "C'mon up and sit next to me." Jeff did as he was told. "Now, what is this about 'unvoiced emotions'? What do you want to talk about?"

Jeff looked at him uncertainly. "You were so mad at me when I asked if I could sleep in the spare bedroom."

"I wasn't mad at you." Phil denied. "I was shocked that you would ask that because I wanted to work through it."

"I do want to work through it. I'm just… I feel like such an idiot. I'm so uncomfortable in my own skin." Jeff said.

Phil shook his head. He didn't know what to say about that. Jeff _shouldn't_ feel like an idiot, because all of this… it wasn't his fault. He couldn't control the fact that there was a selfish idiot out there who wanted to hurt Jeff so badly that he would take that sense of self-security away from him. Hesitantly, Phil reached out for him like he wanted to take his hand. However, when his hand was halfway out, he yanked it back fearfully.

But Jeff took Phil's hand and held it. He bridged the gap between them, the gap that had been there ever since Jeff came home and told him that he had been raped. Phil closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wasn't an extremely emotional man; he wasn't the kind of man that could just spill his emotions out at the drop of a hat. He just wasn't wired to work like that. But he could try. For Jeff, he could try.

"I never liked the fact that you had to work as a stripper. You deserve so much better than that. I could help you find work that is better than that. You would never have to worry about the threat of harm again." Phil pleaded with him.

"You know that I can't do that, Phil. I have a contract!" Jeff exclaimed sadly. He knew that Phil really wanted him to quit, but he just couldn't do that. He needed to feel like he could still earn some money for Phil.

"Then, at least, don't take another extra shift. Try and defend yourself a little bit better, okay? I don't want to lose you. Not when there is a chance that…" here, Phil trailed off.

Jeff's eyes widened with worry. "Not when there is a chance that _what_, Phil?"

Phil looked down at his stomach and sighed. He would have to confess to it sooner or later. "Not when there is a chance that I could be pregnant."


	17. Chris' Plan

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle and Lilly.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Dub-Con, Exotic Dancing, Stripping, etc.

* * *

The next day, Adam was back at the club. He was all alone, other than a few other dancers that he didn't know too well. After Phil had been confirmed to be three months into his pregnancy, Jeff had decided to take the week of to try and reconnect with his boyfriend. That, and the fact that his older brother was due in town any day now. And as JoMo entered into his third trimester, Vince had insisted that he take his maternity leave. Just in case.

Adam was scheduled to be on with Tyson Kidd. Adam couldn't help but feel bad for the poor kid. After his encounter with Brock Lesnar, he had had to have fifteen stitches and take two weeks off. But somehow, the little man had cracked into the hard shell of The Beast. Every day of his recovery, Brock was at Tyson's bedside. He had even offered to cover Tyson's medical bills. And thus, a rocky and somewhat uncomfortable love affair started.

Adam didn't ask. To be honest, he didn't want to know. He was just thankful that The Beast had been taken off of the streets and he didn't have to worry about him anymore. So, Adam looked over his reflection in the mirror. Eve had went out and purchased him new leather pants (he didn't tell her what had happened to them and she didn't ask) and a flash black bow-tie. His fluffy blond hair was pulled back with a thick, brown rubber band.

There was a knock on the door. Adam tore himself away from his reflection and answered it. "Hello?"

Randy stood on the other side, a look of adorable nervousness on his face. "Um… hey. Eve let me back here and… wow, this is a lot more embarrassing than I originally thought that it would be."

Adam chuckled. "C'mon, it can't be _that_ bad…" Randy leveled him with a stare and Adam relented. "Unless, of course, it's from Jeff. Then it could be downright traumatizing."

"Jeff… um… he told Phil to give me these… so that I could give them to you. Here! Take them!" Randy practically tossed the item into his arms like they had burned him.

A dark blush tainted Adam's cheeks as he saw the label. The box read 'Edible Underwear'. "Holy hell…"

Randy cleared his throat and tried to look anywhere other than Adam. "Exactly what I said."

"Well, Jeff must be feeling better. Good. Now I won't feel so bad for having to crush his face in for this." Adam smiled sadistically as he tossed the box onto the nearby couch.

"I'd pay a lot of money to see that." Randy told him with a shy smile. "You may have to make a video of it. It could go viral on YouTube."

Adam chuckled. "Yeah, it could." Eve signaled for him to come out on the stage. "Well, that's my call. Do you… Do you want to hang out after the show? I mean, only if you want to, of course."

Randy ruffled Adam's soft blond locks and smiled. "Sounds great, cutie." And then, he kissed Adam's forehead. Before Adam could comment on the 'cutie' remark, Randy had vanished to find a seat.

Adam wasn't sure whether he should be embarrassed by Jeff's rather… odd present, or if he should be thankful. After all, if his relationship with Randy continued to have this kind of upward climb, maybe he would have a need for them in the near future. But for now, he didn't want to ruin the good thing that he had going for him. He really liked Randy, but he didn't want to push him into something too fast.

Adam walked out onto the stage, followed closely by Tyson Kidd. Tyson was sporting a rather large, extremely obvious hickey on his tanned shoulder. His stormy eyes flickered from the bruised flesh, to Adam, and then out to the crowd. Adam just shook it off. He couldn't let other people influence his life. He had a mission, and that was to earn money to be able to pay John Cena back for his loan. And for that goal, he would do the best damn show of his life.

* * *

Chris Jericho stood at Brielle's bedside. He stared down at the sweet little child, who was covered in several different wires that connected her to various machines that currently kept her alive. She needed to heal from her operation and that would take time, Chris understood that. But Chris also believed that if Adam had only behaved better when he was pregnant with her, if he had taken better care of her, than she wouldn't have needed that operation.

Adam was a slut, a needy little whore. For the first three months, before he even realized that he was pregnant with Brielle, he drank steadily at the club. He gave men lap dances and never held a relationship for more than a few days. Chris could be so much of a better father to Brielle than Adam ever could. But he never had a chance to be her father. That chance had been taken away from him before she was even born.

Chris took a seat beside her bed and took her little hand. Her little hand, which barely even covered the palm of his own. She looked so much like Adam, it almost hurt to look at her. But, soon enough, that wouldn't matter. He had already filed his motion for full custody of Brielle, and when the court saw all of the evidence that he had built against Adam, they would have no choice but to grant him full custody of the small child.

"Hush, my sweet little baby." Chris smiled down at her, even as she slumbered on, lost in her own little world. "Soon enough, you'll be safely with your Daddy. And the bad man will never hurt you again…"


	18. Emergency Custody

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle and Lilly.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Domestic Violence, etc.

* * *

Chris Jericho walked over to the front desk, an official court document in his hand. It was time to make up for all of the time that he had lost with that beautiful child. It was time to fix this. "Excuse me, ma'am?"

The woman stuffed a few sheets into a folder and looked away from her desk. "What can I do for you, sir? Do you need directions to a patient's room, or are you here about specific care for a family member?"

"Actually, neither." Chris smiled as he handed over the document. "You see, a few weeks back, my daughter was brought in because she suffered a massive heart attack. Her name is Brielle Copeland."

The woman's face lifted at the name of the child. "She's your daughter? Oh, Brielle is such a dream! I wish all of the kids in the pediatric ward could be so well-behaved."

"I'm glad to hear that she hasn't been a hassle." Chris continued to flare his disarming smile. "I have a bit of a dilemma involving Brielle, however. I have a court order that grants me emergency custody of Brielle."

The woman's face fell as she read over the order. Most of it was complaints about abuse from the child's mother, Adam Copeland. "Mr. Jericho, when Brielle was first checked in, we checked her for abuse. She was clear."

"Oh, but I've seen him hit her. In fact, I'm having my own personal PCP look into whether or not her heart attack was caused by the stress of it all. Having a prostitute for a mother can do that to you." Chris hissed.

"Mr. Jericho, Brielle was born with a medical condition -," the woman tried to intervene, but it was to no avail. Chris was determined to have his way and he wasn't about to be deterred.

"Now, if you would be so kind as to release her into my care. I have to take her back home, where she will be safe and sound from that monster that thinks that he can call himself a man." Chris said.

The woman looked over the court order one last time. She felt a sick twist in her stomach as she read over all of the accounts of abuse listed there. She was a mother too, but she also considered herself to be an excellent judge of character. When she had seen Adam, she had seen a mother that would fight tooth and nail to save their only child. When she had seen him, she had seen a little bit of herself.

However, she also knew that severe penalties often followed if a court order was not obeyed. She had three children and needed to put food in their mouths, and she couldn't do that without a little extra cash to throw around. So, with a heavy heart, she signed off the release documents with Chris' name and handed them to him. He took the sheets that dealt with Brielle's after-care, before he signed his name on the line and handed it back to her.

He didn't even wait to find out which room she was in. He already knew. And with a smile on his face that was easily a mile wide, he entered the room and found Brielle on her bed, idly playing with her baby doll. She had no clue as to what was about to happen. It could be blamed on her childish innocence, but it could also be blamed on her father's cruelty for desiring to take her away from the only parent that she had ever known.

Brielle turned to face him. This was the first time that he had seen her without an oxygen mask on. She was absolutely beautiful. "Who are you?" She asked him, her voice tiny and hoarse.

"Who am I?" Chris pointed to his chest. Brielle nodded. "Well, I'm your Daddy. Chris Jericho. And I'm here to take you home with me. There will be lots of dollies for you to play with and a swing set in the backyard."

Brielle blinked at him slowly, her blue eyes shimmering with confusion. "Where is Mommy? Did he say that I could leave with you?" Brielle asked him innocently.

Chris was silent for a moment, before he said, "Your Momma was busy, so he told me to come pick you up."

Brielle continued to look at him in disbelief. "But he always comes and sees me. Every day."

Chris was quickly becoming exasperated with her. "Well, not today. He had other stuff that he needed to do, I guess. But enough about him. Is all of your stuff packed?"

Brielle motioned to the little Barbie suitcase in the corner of the room. "Was the other stuff more important than me?" She asked, afraid.

Chris sighed, before he turned around to face her. "I guess to him it must have been. But don't you worry, baby. You are my number one priority from here on out. Do you understand me?"

Brielle nodded sadly, still terribly confused. "Yes, Daddy."

Chris smirked. So, it wouldn't take much to have the baby brat acquaint herself with him after all. Honestly, he wished that he could be there when Adam arrived and found that Brielle had already been checked out of the hospital. However, he couldn't. Once he had Brielle, they would be on the first flight over to Winnipeg. Chris wasn't about to let anyone or anything come between him and Brielle again.

Once Brielle was dressed, Chris scooped her into his arms and rolled the suitcase out behind them. Brielle rested her blond head on his chest, uncertain of what the future held. All she knew was that her Mommy hadn't come to see her and that this man said that that meant he didn't want her anymore. In her childish mind, that was all of the confirmation she needed. Adam didn't love her, so she would leave with Chris, who did.

* * *

Mark had almost made a full recovery from the bullet wound that he had received. It wasn't totally healed, no. That would take several months and it was likely that he would be heavily scarred for the rest of his life. However, each day he worked on his stamina and now he was able to walk up and down the hall twice a day. It was a considerable improvement from the bedridden man that he had once been. Now, at least he could view the world vertically.

Occasionally, he would receive word about his husband. It was never more than a passing comment here or there. The doctors claimed that it was because he had made such amazing progress; they didn't want it to be stunted by an extreme lapse of emotion. Mark was worried about him, sure. But after the first few weeks, he just didn't ask anymore. It wasn't worth the stress and, as he would soon find out, it was a waste of his breath.

Then, there would be days like today. Today, Vince had closed the club early and had come down with Lilly just to brighten up his day. Mark was always thankful to see his daughter, the little bundle of energy. But today, the blond doll had her hair all curled and she wore a fancy new dress, which had been a gift from her Uncle Vince. Proudly, she danced around the room to show it off to her Daddy.

"You look beautiful, Flower." Mark told her. Lilly smiled and bounded over to him, before she slid onto the foot of the bed and offered him a big smile. "What is it, baby?"

"I got a message from Momma." Lilly told him. "He told me to tell you that he loves you very much and he's sorry that he can't be with you. He's got a lot of booboos and they hurt a lot more than the doctors thought they did."

Mark smiled at her, proud that she had remembered all of that information. Lilly seemed to have a two-second memory, after all. "Well, thank you for passing that message along, Flower."

"You're welcome." Lilly said, proud for the praise she had received. "Hey, Daddy?"

"What is it, baby?" Mark asked.

"How does your booboo feel? Is it any better?" Lilly motioned to her heart, which was where Mark had been hurt.

Mark looked down at his own heart, which was still heavily covered in gauze and tape. Sometimes, he felt like a mummy. With all of the wires going in and coming out of his body, he could also be mistaken for the bionic man. But when he looked back at Lilly, he could see the seriousness in her little eyes. She was honestly afraid. And as her father, he needed to reassure her. He needed to make all of those fears vanish.

"I feel just fine, baby-doll. My booboo is much better." Mark told her. "Pretty soon, I'll be out of here. Then, we can both go home and make Mommy a get-well-soon card."

"Really?" Lilly asked, already excited.

"Really." Mark confirmed with a small smile. There weren't words to express how much he loved his baby girl.

* * *

Randy and Adam had had a wonderful date. Randy had been the perfect gentleman and Adam had never felt more loved or appreciated. They had even planned to have another one next week. After Randy dropped Adam off at his house, Adam changed out of his nice clothes and put on the normal clothes that he wore – some loose jeans and a plain white t-shirt that was one-size too small, because he couldn't afford much more with Brielle's medical bills.

He walked back into the cool night air. Because there wasn't any gas in the tank, he would have to walk over to the hospital. Not that Adam minded. It was excellent exercise. He looked back at the house once to make sure that all the lights had been turned off. He had lost his keys and Jeff had his spare, so he couldn't lock the door. He could only hope for the best, which in this neighborhood meant that they didn't rob you of every last dime you owned.

The walk to the hospital was made in silence. All the while, Adam felt a sickening twist in his stomach that told him that something was wrong. What it was, he wasn't sure of. Maybe it was that maternal instinct that seemed to kick into overdrive whenever Brielle was sick, but the hospital would've called if that was the case. So what could be the issue? Adam continued to think this over as he entered the hospital and made his way toward the elevator.

Once he reached the floor that he desired, he walked out into the cool muskiness that seemed to be everywhere in the hospital. The sharp stench of disinfectant almost knocked him out cold. He coughed a few times to clear his throat and nose of the horrific substance, before he walked over to the reception desk. It was the same desk that Chris had visited a few hours before with the court order for emergency custody of Brielle.

"Hello." Adam said kindly. "I received a call earlier that said that my daughter was to be released today. Her name is Brielle Copeland." Adam stated.

The woman looked at him with wide eyes. So, this was the man who was accused of beating his child. She had heard about it around the floor, but now that she saw him… "What is your name, sir?"

Adam blinked. He had been there so many times before, and they _still_ needed him to state his name. "Adam Joseph Copeland." He said.

"That's what I thought." The woman sighed. "Brielle has already been released from the hospital and into the care of her father. This was done due to a court order issuing him temporary emergency custody of the child."

Adam started to choke. "What?!"


	19. Take Me Home

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Domestic Violence, etc.

* * *

"Mr. Copeland, I have to ask that you calm down." The woman said. "Now, I know that you're upset. It's understandable. However, I am not in a position to contradict what the court has said."

Adam jabbed at his chest with his thumb, frustrated and infuriated. "Look at me! How could you think that I would _ever_ want to hurt my beautiful baby? It's sick and demented to think like that!"

"There was evidence presented to the court in the form of photos taken of the child. She had bruises all over her face and her chest, Mr. Copeland. How do you want to explain that one?" She asked.

"I would _never_ lay a hand on her to hurt her! Not even if I would die otherwise!" Adam screamed. "I've raised her her entire life. I've cared for her. I've loved her. Every damn dollar that I earned went to her!"

"You have to admit, Mr. Copeland, that _does_ sound a little bit resentful." The woman said matter-of-factly.

Adam couldn't believe this. How dare she? How _dare_ she stand there and tell him how badly he had raised his child? "You know what? I'm done with this. You're obviously going to be absolutely no fucking help to me."

"Mr. Copeland, I would have to ask that you refrain from using profane language." She said.

Adam rolled his eyes. "I don't want to hear about what you would 'ask me to do'. Leave me the fuck alone."

Adam stalked off, a determined look on his pretty face. He brushed the blond hair out from in front of his face and tried to hold back the tears that brewed to the surface. His baby was God-knows-where, held captive by that demented monster who had… who had… Adam couldn't even think about it. He squeezed his eyes closed and his throat burned for a drink. Oh, he wanted a drink so badly that it hurt. But he couldn't do that.

The minute that he found out that he would be a parent; he had sworn to lay off the alcohol. And while it couldn't be avoided at work, he had promised himself that he wouldn't touch a bottle outside of the club. He couldn't allow his mind to be impaired for even a minute. If he lost focus of what was important, then all could be lost to him. He knotted his fingers in his hair and hissed at the pain that it caused. It was nothing compared to the pain in his heart.

Adam jabbed his thumb into the down-button and waited for the elevator to come around. Once the doors opened, he stumbled inside and waited for the doors to close. Flipping the switch for the emergency stop, the loud wail of a siren broke into his silent reverie and he flinched. But seconds later, it fell away to a dull hum. Falling to the floor, he buried his face in his hands and let the tears slowly roll down his cheeks.

What would he do without Brielle? When he had first come to the US, he had been extremely free spirited and carefree. It wasn't exactly the best way to be, he understood that. But then Brielle had come into his life and she had grounded him. She had shown him what it meant to live life for someone else, not to just worry about yourself all the time. Now, she was _all_ that he cared about. He didn't know how to live life without her.

He felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. "Hello?"

_"Oh, hey Adam. It's Jeff. I didn't exactly expect you to answer, since this is the third time that I've called and the only time that you've answered. But what the hey? I just called to ask if you were okay."_

Adam swallowed hard and rubbed the tears out of his eyes. "Of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?" He heard Phil's voice in the distance, before Jeff cursed. "I should be asking if _you're_ okay."

Jeff chuckled, but it was strained. _"I'm fine. It's just that, ever since Phil found out that he was pregnant, he's been having the most disgusting cravings. That, and my brother is driving him out of his fucking mind."_

"You're brother _can_ be rather obsessive sometimes." Adam remarked.

Jeff sucked in a breath and started to defend his brother. _"Hey! My brother isn't _that_ bad."_

"I bet you couldn't even say that with a straight face." Adam said. Within seconds, Jeff had broken down into peals of laughter. "Exactly as I thought."

Over the next half hour, the two men talked as if nothing had transpired between them. It was almost as if that fight that had occurred just… _hadn't_. Adam had never disobeyed him, Jeff had never been viciously attacked. Adam hadn't felt so comfortable around his old friend in a long time, and it made a warm feeling blossom in his stomach. For the first time in the turbulent hours he had spent in the hospital, he felt _whole_.

Adam told him about the fact that Brielle had had to have emergency heart surgery, and that she had come through with flying colors. He neglected to mention that Chris had taken her off to God-knows-where, because Jeff had his own problems to worry about. Jeff told him about the attack – not in detail, but enough to get the general gist of what had occurred – and he told him that the attacker had been none other than Chris Jericho.

_"You know, Adam, if Chris has come back into your life, then you should hire Jay. Jay can put that bastard behind bars for any number of the crimes he has committed over the last ten years."_

Adam's eyes narrowed. "Jay? Jason Reso? He's a lawyer, yeah, and also a mutual friend. But isn't he a defense attorney? What would he want with a case like this?"

_"Didn't you say that he was a friend, Adam?"_ Jeff asked. _"He'll do whatever it takes to help out a friend."_

* * *

Chris walked into the airport, Brielle in tow. He had had her hair cut so that it barely brushed her shoulders and all of the curls had been combed out. She wore a black baseball cap on her head, which was a few sizes too big for her petite little frame. She was also dressed in loose black pants and a baggy black shirt to hide all of the stitches and gauze that she still had to wear on her chest. Yes, this would do just fine.

The doctor hadn't exactly cleared her to travel, but that didn't matter. It would only be a few hours, and then she could sleep all of the pain off. He just needed for her to be out of the country. Once she was out from underneath the watchful eye of the US court system, it would be harder for that little bitch to track her down. Brielle would be officially his. Not that he really wanted her, no. He just wanted her for the chaos she would cause.

Brielle looked up at him with her wide, innocent blue eyes. Those eyes, so full of trust and love for this man that she barely knew. It should break him that it had been so easy for him to earn her trust, but no, he was only disgusted. Disgusted that Adam hadn't taught her better. And as he looked over her overly skinny body, he shook his head in disbelief. Disbelief that Adam hadn't treated her better.

Chris walked over to one of the women behind the desk. She perked up when she saw him. Her nametag read 'AJ Lee'. "Hello, sir. What can I do for you today?"

"Hello, ma'am." Immediately, Chris turned on the charm. He could see how AJ started to melt like butter. "I need two tickets for Winnipeg, Canada. We need to leave as soon as possible."

AJ hit a few keys on the computer. "You're in luck! It seems as if there is a flight that is leaving for Winnipeg, Canada in twenty minutes. There are two tickets available for second class."

"I'll take them." Chris said. He handed over the money for the tickets, as well as photo identification.

"Very well then, Mr. Jericho." AJ printed up his two tickets and tore the two apart to create two separate sheets. "I hope that you enjoy your fight. Please make sure to fill out the survey when you land."

"Of course. Have a nice day, ma'am." Chris told her with a smile.

"You too, Mr. Jericho. And you too, sweetie."

Brielle only stared at the woman with her wide, confused blue eyes. This was all so much to take in at once, and she was understandable confused and overwhelmed. Chris yanked on her arm, silently conveying that it was time to leave. Brielle made a choked little sound in the back of her throat, but stumbled after her father, yanking her little suitcase behind her. It was time to start their new life.

* * *

"I'm home!" Chris called as he stumbled into the house, an exhausted child locked firmly in his arms. The rental car still had all of their suitcases nestled safely within it.

"You're finally home, son!" Chris watched as his father slid out of the chair and walked over to him. "And who is this beautiful child that you have with you? I didn't think that you were gone that long."

Chris smiled as he brushed the child's golden hair out from in front of her face. "Dad, this is Brielle. She's the daughter that I never knew that I had with that bitch -,"

Here, his father cut him off. "Chris! You should know better than to talk in such a manner in front of children!"

Chris looked down sheepishly, but felt his anger boil inside. "Of course, Dad. How silly of me." Chris tried to laugh it off. It didn't work. "This is Brielle Copeland. She's four-years-old and has a heart defect."

"And you _flew_ with her?" His father sounded affronted.

"Of course I did!" Chris exclaimed, beginning to feel like he couldn't do anything right. "Should I have _walked_?"

"Don't take a smart-ass tone with me, boy!" His father shot back, and Chris felt like reminding him about what he had said about language in front of the child. "You know the consequences travel could have on her health."

Chris frowned. "Yes, Dad. I had to do tons of research before I could even think about getting custody of her. As it turns out, there have been a few (not well-known, but a few) cases where alcohol has caused heart defects in kids."

"And you think that his drinking caused her heart defect?" His Dad asked.

Chris rolled his eyes. "I don't _think_. I know."

He shifted Brielle around in his arms and started to carry her through the house, his father following closely behind. He felt like every second that he had had with her since he arrived had been micromanaged by this man. Maybe it would have been better if he had stayed in the US… no, he knew that it wouldn't have. Adam could find her and then he would take her back – what would that leave Chris with?

Finally, they arrived in the room that would belong to Brielle. His father stood in the doorway as Chris set Brielle down onto her bed and tucked the brilliantly pink blanket around her. All of the time, she remained fully unconscious. And then, Chris turned to his father. He wore a disapproving look on his face, a look that Chris was extremely familiar with. It reminded him of how he would never be the son that his father had always wanted.

"How will you even care for her?" He asked.

"I'll make do." Chris mumbled under his breath.

"Chris! Think logically! You're not a kid anymore! You're thirty-seven years old! And, to make matters even worse, you still live with _me_!" His father screamed.

"I'll make do!" Chris shot back. He stormed over to the door and slammed it in his father's face, locking it seconds later. And then, he fell down on his hands and knees. "How will I make do?"


	20. Color Swatches

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Domestic Violence, etc.

* * *

Phil and Matt sat on opposite sides of the couch, their arms crossed over their chests and their feet on the coffee table in equal states of defiance. If Jeff wasn't so disturbed, he may have noted the humor behind it. Phil and Matt, two men who claimed to have nothing in common, were more alike than they cared to admit. And it _was_ funny, it was. Jeff was terribly amused. On the inside, of course. Phil would seriously hurt him otherwise.

Jeff wandered into the den, some chamomile tea with honey (two teaspoons, exactly the way that Phil had asked) in hand. Matt studied his brother's every movement. No doubt, he wondered how his brother had become so whipped in such a short amount of time. Jeff could see it in Matt's eyes. He wanted to smack that look off of Matt's face. But he couldn't. No, he wouldn't. Because that would upset Phil. And Phil would seriously hurt him.

But then, that didn't exactly make much sense to Jeff. Phil and Matt hated each other, as evidenced by the distance between them and their defiant stance. But, at the same time, if Jeff asked his brother to leave, Phil would cuss him out. And if he told Phil to rest for a little while, Matt would bite his head off. He couldn't win, so he didn't even try. He set the tea down and looked at the space between them, before he sat down in an arm chair far, _far_ away.

"So," Jeff said, just to break the awkward silence. In the end, it only made it more awkward. "I see that the two of you haven't killed each other. That's nice. Um…" Jeff looked anywhere other than the two men.

Phil blinked dumbly, almost as if he hadn't realized that Jeff was there. "What do you mean, the _two_ of us? For all I care, I'm the only one out here." Phil stated matter-of-factly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you hear the call of the Little Whiney Bitch? It's an extremely rare, egotistical bird. I've always wanted to take a picture of one." Matt said.

"Did you hear that, Jeff? It sounded like a pup that's been neutered by his bitch." Phil bit back just as fiercely.

"Now, boys," Jeff felt like a mediator. "Matt, Phil is not a bird. Phil, Matt is not a neutered dog."

Phil and Matt turned to face each other simultaneously, a cold look shared between them. And then, still synced perfectly with each other, they turned back to stare at their section of the wall. Jeff sighed. While he knew that the world would end before Phil and Matt became the best of friends, the kind that ran off into the sunset at least, he wished that they could at least be civil to each other.

Phil reached out and took his tea cup off of the table, sipping at it for a few seconds, before he placed it back down. His insomnia had had the best of him over the last few days, and he had been unable to sleep for more than three or four hours a night (on a good day). Matt stole a look at Phil, narrowing his eyes at the younger man. If looks could kill, Phil would be twenty-four feet under.

"Jeff?" Jeff turned around to face his boyfriend. "I'm gonna head out and grab some stuff for dinner. Is there anything that you want?" Jeff shook his head. "Okay. I'll be back in an hour."

"Okay. Be safe." Jeff told him, before he watched Phil walk out of the room. Once he was gone, Jeff turned to his brother and scowled. "Did you have to run him off like that?"

"He's an asshole, Jeff. I don't understand what you see in him." Matt said.

"I know that you don't. But he's gonna have my baby, so you could at least treat him with respect."

Matt just shook his head. "If he was so afraid that he would hurt you, you would think that he would be more respectful toward your brother. You know, your own flesh and blood."

Jeff frowned. He should've known that his brother just wouldn't understand. "Whatever." He dumped the rest of the tea into the sink, before he took his keys off the table. "I'm gonna head out. I'll see you later."

Matt didn't even look away from the television. "Later."

* * *

"Which one do you think that Doan will like better? Powder blue or periwinkle?" John held out the color swatches so that Mike could look them over. Mike stared at them blankly.

"You lost me at 'powder'." And then, a dry laugh. "C'mon, Johnny. You know that he won't care about it. He'll be a few hours old. The only thing he cares about is a clean diaper and when his next meal is."

John sighed. "I guess you're right. It's just…" Here, John paused. Tears started to streak down his face and he collapsed in the nearby arm chair, exhausted from the overload of emotions.

Mike frowned. He hated to see John cry. "What's the matter, Johnny? It's not just the paint, is it?"

John stuttered on his words for a few minutes, before he shook his head and threw the paint swatches down. He felt sick to his stomach, but it wasn't from the nausea. There was just so much work that still needed to be done, and it seemed like the date predicted for Doan's birth was closer than ever. He was just so worried that he would be born and they would be unprepared. He didn't want to mess up this kid like he had been screwed up.

All of his life, John had been taught that self-appearance was life. If you weren't beautiful, then why did you exist? That was where John's fear of the baby had come from. He was so afraid that when the baby stretched out his stomach and he gained the extra weight, Mike wouldn't want him anymore. With Mike's help, he was able to discard some of that fear. But it was still there in the back of his mind, a monster in the darkness waiting to be unleashed.

"How about this? Mark is gonna be released from the hospital next week. I'm sure that he'll be looking for something to do with his hands to keep his mind busy. I'll ask him to help and we'll have this room done in no time."

John sniffled and nodded, a small smile forming. "That sounds wonderful. But you're right. It wasn't just the room."

"What was it, then?" Mike asked, concerned for the smaller man.

"It was a lot of stuff, but I'm better now. I'm glad that you're here with me."

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be, Johnny. Love you." Mike said sincerely.

John smiled. "Love you too."


	21. Lie to Me

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Domestic Violence, etc.

* * *

It had now been one week since Chris had taken Brielle back to Canada with him, and he had started to realize that maybe he had made a mistake. Not in the decision that he had made, no. He knew that Brielle was better off with him, whether or not anybody else chose to believe him. The mistake had been to return home to that _bastard_ he called his father. He had been less than supportive of Chris' decision and Chris wouldn't stand for it.

Now, as he read to Brielle from a book of fairytales, he noticed the man out of the corner of his eye. He stood in the doorway, that look of eternal disapproval seared onto his face. It made Chris sick. He wasn't a kid anymore and he didn't need his father's approval, but the fact that he felt the need to constantly undermine his authority as Brielle's father never failed to scratch the tentative membrane that kept him from silencing the old man once and for all.

"You need to take her to a hospital, Chris." His father said after a moment. Both looked down at Brielle, who looked much too pale and hadn't eaten her dinner in two days. "Look at her! She's only skin and bones!"

"What would _you_ know about it? It's not like you've actually tried to feed her. She can't keep her dinner down, so I don't force it. End of story." Chris hissed, but he refused to look at his father's face.

"You'd rather that that child starves to death than admit that you made a mistake, wouldn't you Chris?" His father whispered. His hands formed fists at his sides, but he restrained himself.

Chris looked away, embarrassed to admit that he _may_ have made a mistake, but was too proud to turn around and correct it now. "Leave. It's her bedtime and I am _trying_ to read her a bedtime story."

"I hate to do this, Chris, but if you don't take care of that child -,"

Chris turned on him then, his eyes fiery and wild. "You'll do what, old man?"

"I'll have to take up the matter with child services."

All of a sudden, Chris was out of his chair. That membrane had burst and now nothing could hold him back as his hand curled into a fist and struck his father's face harshly. The old man frantically tried to suck in air as Chris wailed on him, blow after blow piercing him as if his fists were blades. Chris was ruthless. Every bit of anger that he had ever possessed toward this man was vented in that moment, and when he crumpled to the floor, Chris _smiled_.

Chris walked back over to the bed and yanked Brielle out of the bed, her head bobbing weakly from malnutrition. Her eyes fluttered a few times, before they came to settle on him. There was a milky sheen of white over the normally vibrantly colored eyes. Chris chose to cast that aside as he shifted her to one arm, her body moving without much of a hassle. At this time, she was much too weak to contest his desires.

"Look at that, Brielle. That just goes to show you that you can't trust anybody in this goddamn twisted world. Not even your own family." He spat at his father, who weakly flinched, unable to defend himself.

"I want Mommy." Brielle whined weakly. Tears streaked down her little face and her body stirred with distress.

"Get this through your thick skull, you little brat. _Your mother doesn't want you! Your mother doesn't love you! He's glad that you're gone! In fact, I bet he wishes you were dead!"_ Chris screamed into her face.

Brielle started to sob, her little chest heaving with the force of her cries. "M-Mommy…"

"I'm the only one that you can trust, Brielle. I have your best interest at heart. And I will be there for you, forever… and ever. Say goodbye to your grandfather." Chris said.

Brielle only looked at the man on the floor with teary eyes as Chris carried her out of the house.

* * *

Adam sat on the floor of his house, the Jason Reso's business card in his hand. He knew that Jeff had said that he would take his case, but what if he didn't? Adam couldn't afford a lawyer. He couldn't even afford to pay for the operation that would save his baby's life. Maybe Chris was right. Maybe Adam was a second-rate father and he deserved all of this. His stomach twisted and he took a swig of his ginger ale. He couldn't afford to be sick.

Over the last two hours, he had been attempting to convince himself to try and call Jay. He would never know unless he called him, was what he reminded himself. It was worth a try. And from what he had heard, Jay's record was almost impeccable. One had to really search to find a case that he hadn't won. That should have calmed him, but it really didn't. It would be his luck that he would be that one flaw, that one blemish on Jay's record.

_You abused her, you beat her until she bruised_, the nurse's words still echoed in his head. How could someone think that he would ever hurt his precious little baby? She had been his entire world ever since that moment when he found out that he was pregnant. His world revolved around her, she was the reason that he continued to pour his life down the drain in that club. It was the only job that he was qualified for, after all, now that Chris had broken him…

A knock on the door broke him out of his pity-party. He shook himself out of it as he climbed to his feet. "I'll be there in a minute!" He called, hoping he could be heard in the next room over.

When he finally arrived, he opened the door and saw Randy there. "Thank God, Adam. Do you realize how many times I called you? We had a date on Tuesday and you never showed. I was worried, so I called. You didn't answer."

Adam tried to think of what day it was, and then realized with a start that it was Saturday. "I am so sorry, Randy. I didn't even realize that it was Saturday. Shit."

Randy relaxed now that he saw that Adam was okay. "It's okay, Addy… What's the matter?"

"What do you mean?" Adam asked, confused. He had his best smile on his face, but it didn't fool Randy.

Randy reached forward and brushed a hand across Adam's cheek. He showed it to Adam, who noticed with disdain that it was streaked with moisture. "You're crying, Adam. Don't lie and say that it's nothing."

"Oh…" Adam said weakly. "It's a long story. I don't want to bother you with it. Really, it's… nothing."

Randy crossed his arms over his chest. "Where's Brielle?"

"What?" Adam sniffled.

"You were so excited that she would be able to have this operation. I could see it in your eyes, Adam. You were so worried about her and were relieved when the money came in to save her. Now, you just look… sad."

Before Randy could even finish, Adam broke down. The dam broke and the tears started to fall from his eyes like a waterfall. Randy hadn't expected such an instantaneous reaction and was a bit startled by it, but after a second of hesitation, he drew Adam into his arms and cradled him there. Adam didn't resist. He couldn't. Embarrassment mixed with the heartache he felt had rendered him unable to resist Randy's comforting embrace.

Gently, Randy shushed him. He rocked him back and forth and told him very softly that he was there for him, that he wouldn't let him go, that Adam could _trust_ him. And, somehow, Adam knew that he could. So, he told him the entire story. He told him about how he had been assaulted by Chris, which had led to Brielle's birth. He told him about raising Brielle on his own, afraid of Chris returning. And then, he told him that Chris had taken Brielle and run.

"You need to find her, Adam. You need her back. From what you've told me about Chris, you know full well that he isn't good for her. He's taken her for selfish reasons and she needs her Mommy." Randy said.

"I don't know _how_ to get her back, though. He's ruined my credibility." Adam said.

"How did he do that?" Randy asked.

Adam took out the official papers and showed him all of the bruises he claimed were on Brielle's body. "He said that I abused her and he must've used Photoshop to fix the pictures. You know that I could never… don't you?"

Randy nodded firmly. "I know how much you love her, Adam. This… this just isn't like you."

"Thank you. It makes me feel better that someone believes me." Adam said.

"What is this?" Randy took the business card out of Adam's hand.

"His name is Jason Reso and he's a lawyer that a friend of mine recommended. The only problem is, even if he agreed to take my case, I can't afford him." Adam said sadly.

"Don't worry about that, Adam. I'll cover it." Randy said. Adam turned to him, shocked. He couldn't believe this man's generosity, to offer to pay what could be an incredibly hefty debt.

"I couldn't ask you to do that. I don't want charity." Adam replied.

But Randy shook his head. "It's not charity, Adam. It's me doing something that I want to do to help someone that I care about. Consider it… southern hospitality."

Adam looked at him carefully, his eyes wide with disbelief. He must've waited several minutes for a catch, but one never came. Randy wandered off into the kitchen, and for the first time Adam realized that Randy had brought several bags with him. They bore the Wal-Mart logo on them. His heart swelled with love as he watched Randy unload fresh produce and start to make him dinner. Maybe this was what love was meant to feel like.

* * *

Even if it was Saturday, Mike had been forced to go into work today. One of his clients had had a breakdown at his photo shoot and Mike had been called in to calm him down. If he didn't, it could mean thousands of dollars for the company and Mike could lose one of his most famous clients. He had been extremely apologetic to JoMo, but the pretty brunette had only brushed it off. They had all of Sunday, after all, and it wasn't his fault he had bratty clients.

About an hour after Mike left, there was a knock on the door. JoMo answered it and was pleasantly surprised to find Jeff on the other side. He hadn't had much contact with Jeff ever since 'the incident' (it was much easier to refer to it as 'the incident', because then Jeff wouldn't have to face the fact that he had been sexually assaulted and JoMo could still think of his job as the safest place he could hope to be). JoMo welcomed him inside with a smile.

"Jeff, I'm surprised! I haven't seen you in forever." JoMo said with a smile. Quickly, he fixed some decaf coffee for both of them and ushered Jeff to take a seat in the other room. "What can I do for you?"

"Actually, I'm here because we need to talk." His tone was incredibly serious and JoMo's happy air fell slightly. He couldn't help but feel the tension between them start to increase.

"About what?" He asked, his voice a bit more tense than he had hoped it would be.

They locked eyes. "About Phil."


	22. Death

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Domestic Violence, etc.

* * *

Chris looked into the backseat of his car. Brielle sat in her car seat, her head tilted to the side, her little body stretched out on the cool leather. Blood frothed on her bluish mouth and for a minute, Chris feared that she had died. But then, her entire body shuddered as she inhaled. It sounded like a horrific wheeze in the abundant silence. Chris had to turn his attention back to the road. He knew that he could have killed her, and, to be honest, he _would_ have killed her.

Chris was afraid. In fact, he had never been so afraid in his life. If he were to overstep his bounds with her, even the tiniest fraction, he could kill her. He could only see it now, the courts cursing him for saying that Adam had been the one to abuse her but Chris had been the one to kill her. Brielle wheezed. Chris cleared his throat and turned up his music. The addictive beat of the bass cut off the horrific wheezes at the stem. The backseat went silent.

He was about a half-hour away from his house – his father was dead, or maybe he wasn't, Chris didn't know and he really didn't care. What he _did_ know was that he had to find somewhere to stay and _fast_. He wasn't sure how much more abuse Brielle could take. Now, she had started to cough. It was a horrible, gargling sound. When her throes of agony finally made it over the sound of the radio, he turned it louder and rolled the windows down.

Once he finally broke away from the mainstream of traffic, he pulled off of the road and into a gas station. Taking out his card, he swiped it and filled up the tank. And then he wandered inside, grabbing a pack of Camels, two Hershey bars, a bottle of generic-brand Pink Lemonade, and some Salt 'N Vinegar potato chips. He paid for them all and stuffed them into an old plastic bag. He offered a flirtatious smile to the cute little number behind the counter.

"Hello, there, miss." His smile broadened when she batted her long, dark eyelashes at him. Her shirt was unbuttoned just enough to show off her generous cleavage, and he felt his eyes immediately drawn there.

"Well, hello sir. Is there something that I can help you with?" Her tone implied that there was _much more_ that she wanted to help him with, and the undertone of lust was not lost on him.

"Actually, there is. I'm on my way to Vancouver. But it seems that I'm a little lost. Can you help?" Chris asked.

The woman smiled and nodded. "Vancouver? You came from that direction?" A brief nod. "Continue that way for sixteen miles. The altitude is different, that's how you'll know you're going the right way."

"Thank you, ma'am." Chris smiled, bowed his head, and was about to leave, when she stretched out a well-manicured hand and closed it around his shoulder.

After a few minutes, he walked back out to the car. Brielle was now unconscious, her breath back to wheezes. Chris threw his stuff onto the other seat and started the car back up. She roared to life, and without so much as a look into the backseat, he started back out onto the road. Brielle mewled and shifted around, a thin stream of blood trailing out of the corner of her mouth. She wiped at it with the back of her hand, and when she saw it, she started to cry.

"Daddy, I don't feel so good." She whined weakly, but it only came out as a gargle beneath the blood.

"Can't help that, Brie. You'll have to wait until we reach Vancouver to see a doctor." Chris said.

"But I… I don't…" She coughed and red droplets splattered out onto her tiny little hand. She mewled and curled up into herself, wrapping her little arms around her stomach. "There's blood, Daddy."

"I don't care. Just shut the fuck up and let me drive, okay? I have to think." But really, there was absolutely nothing to think about. He knew that she would die and he couldn't do a damn thing about it.

"I think that I'm gonna be sick." Brielle said.

"If you're gonna be sick, do it out the window. I don't want vomit on my upholstery." Chris said.

Brielle was never sick. She never had a chance to be. Unconsciousness claimed her before she could. If Chris would have taken the time to read over the post-operation papers, he would know that bleeding from the mouth meant that her body could be rejecting the new heart. Or worse, one of the valves had not fully healed and she now had a bleed. All of these could lead to death, not that Chris cared or was wise to any of this.

Her stuffed teddy bear, the one that her Mommy had left for her, was spotted with blood that dripped down from her chin. The pain that she felt was obvious in her tense posture. Nevertheless, she wouldn't release her teddy bear. It was like her one connection to her Mommy, a reminder that he still loved her and would never leave her like this man said that he would. This man was lying. This man was lying. This man was…

"Shit!" Chris slammed on the brakes. Brielle's car seat rattled forward and, because it wasn't properly connected, it rocketed off of the seat and she fell between the front and back seat with a thud.

"Brielle?" Frightened for the first time, able to _feel_ for the first time, Chris turned around and tried to rouse the little girl. Only, this time, she wouldn't open her eyes. "Brielle? C'mon, baby. Open up those pretty little eyes. Brielle?"

When he released her head, it fell forward and stilled. All around was eerily silent and calm.


	23. The Hospital

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Domestic Violence, Sexual Abuse, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

Hurriedly, Chris pulled out of traffic and turned off the car. He went around to the backseat, unlocked the door, and pulled Brielle out of the mess. "Brielle? Brielle?"

The child didn't answer him.

"Shit! Shit, shit, _shit_! I'm so sorry, baby. So sorry. But don't worry. I'll find someone who can help you." Chris assured her immobile, lifeless form.

Brielle only continued to stare at him blankly, unmoving. It broke his heart to see her this way.

"Where the hell is the hospital? There has to be a hospital around here somewhere! There has to be someone who can help her! There has to be someone who can save her."

For the first time, he could feel her breathing shallowly against him. It gave him hope.

And then, about ten feet ahead, he saw the universal sign for the hospital. "Oh, thank God! Just hold on for a few more minutes, baby. It'll all be over soon."

Brielle gargled and her eyes fell closed.

"C'mon, baby, it's okay. Just a few more minutes, baby." Chris climbed back behind the wheel, Brielle in his arms, and pulled back onto the road.

He was already doing twenty over the speed limit and was pushing the gas pedal even harder. He needed to be at that hospital _yesterday_. Chris could feel her breath start to stagger against his chest, picking up speed as her little body succumbed to shock. Taking one hand off of the wheel, he started to rub her little arms and legs and force some heat back into them. She moaned softly and her head lolled to the side. Quickly realizing that this wasn't working, he cracked up the heat to maximum power and cuddled her closer to his chest to preserve her body heat.

Chris could feel her floating away from him and it scared him. It wasn't like the kind of fear he felt when his father came this close, _this_ close to taking her away from him. No, that had been a cold-blooded fear. He had reacted without thinking and now, it had almost cost him his everything. But after what he had done to Adam, didn't he deserve to have Brielle die in his arms? Didn't he deserve to have everyone that he cared about brutally torn from his arms? No, he didn't. Chris would make sure that she lived and then they would continue to move toward their destination.

The hospital was closer now. He could see the building in the distance. It was a large brick building, maybe three or four floors high. Chris made a sudden left turn and sped down the final road that would lead him into the parking lot for the emergency room. Selecting one of the nearest spots, he skidded to a halt and cut the engine, stuffing his keys into his pocket and carrying her over to the reception room. He was scared and she went through triage in less than half an hour, but it felt like an eternity. A few minutes later, she was in one of the beds and a doctor was taking her vitals.

"What seems to be the problem with her, Mr. Irvine?" The doctor asked sweetly. She brushed the small child's hair away from her face and put a thermometer into her ear.

"She just had serious heart surgery. She was born with a defect and had to have one of her heart-valves replaced." Chris explained. "The doctor cleared her into my custody and I've kept up with her care as best as I could."

The doctor nodded and took the thermometer out. She didn't have a temperature and Chris was thankful for that. "What hospital did she come from, Mr. Irvine?"

All of the color drained out of Chris' face. "Now that you ask, I don't remember the name of it…"

"Oh, really? That's a shame. It would've been easier to call and have her records transferred over."

Hurriedly, Chris shook his head. "No, no. I would be more than happy to fill you in on all that you need to know."

The doctor tilted her head to the side, confusion etched on her pretty face. Finally, she shook it off. "Okay, then. I need her date of birth, the name of her birth defect, her mother's name, and any other information that I would need to know."

Chris filled her in on all of the information that he knew. He didn't know her date of birth, but he told her that it was on record with the court house that he should receive a birth certificate for the child in a few days. He supplied the name of the birth defect, and the only reason he knew that was because it had been on her discharge papers. Her mother's name was easy. Adam Joseph Copeland. When the doctor looked at him oddly, he realized that it must've struck her as odd for the child to have a male 'mother'. He explained that some men were 'carriers' and could bear children.

He told her about the symptoms that she had started to exhibit in the car. He told her about how scared she had been and then, when Chris had suddenly stopped the car, how she had lurched forward and landed underneath her seat. Playing the part of the distraught father to a tee, he cried about how he wished he knew what he could have done differently so that none of this would have happened. The doctor consoled him as best she could, telling him that nobody could have known that this would be the outcome. But Chris _had_ known. He _had_ known and he didn't care.

"Okay, Mr. Irvine. Hush, now, it'll be okay. I'll make sure that she receives all of the care that she needs. I need you to sign here so that she can receive care, however. Can you do that for me?"

Chris nodded, wiping crocodile tears from his face. He took the clipboard from her hands and scribbled his name onto the dotted line. "You'll make sure that her body hasn't rejected the heart?"

"We'll do the best that we can, sir." The doctor assured him. "Now, we'll need to run a full-body scan to see if anything else has been affected by her heart defect. Also, we'll run an x-ray of her chest and see if we can't identify the problem."

"Did you hear that, baby? The doctor is gonna take excellent care of you. There's nothing to fear." Chris smiled blandly at the child, whose eyes had now opened and stared at him blankly.

"I'll send a technician in for her in a few minutes. You should use this time to console her. Make her feel at ease." The doctor offered, her smile never faltering.

Chris nodded fluently, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Of course."

Chris waited a few minutes until the doctor was out of eye and ear range and then turned to the child, who had started to drool a little bit. It was tinged pink with blood, but otherwise, she looked every bit the normal child. Chris drew his palm back and struck her across the face, watching her head loll to the side and her little cheek stain red with the beginnings of a bruise. The pink tinge became a little darker, but then evened out as her eyes fell closed. And Chris leaned in close, so close that his inhale was her exhale, and vice versa.

"You little bitch! If you die on me, I swear that I will not rest until your bastard mother is six-feet-under at your side. You're not allowed to die, Brielle. You're mine, and I won't let you escape so easily."


	24. Revelations

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle and Lilly.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Non-Con, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

"I don't think that I understand. We need to talk about _Phil_? What about him? I hardly even know him!" The look of absolute and utter confusion on John's face was adorable. Jeff smiled.

"There's no reason to get your knickers in a twist, JoMo. It's not anything bad. I just need… advice." Jeff rolled the word around in his mouth for a few seconds before he decided that yes, it would do the job just fine.

John raised a delicate eyebrow. "Advice? On what?" He rose out of his chair and retrieved a water bottle.

"A few days ago, Phil found out that he was pregnant." Jeff said. Had it only been a few days? It felt like a few _months_. "His hormones are already out of control and he's a lot… moodier, you could say. And he's about to murder my brother."

"Aren't we all?" John drank some of the water as he reclined in his rocking chair.

"What is it about my brother that makes everyone want to kill him? I seemed to have missed that meeting." Jeff sighed.

John smirked. "It's just that he's so annoyingly _aloof_, Jeffy. Gets under your skin without really realizing he's doing it, y'know? And once he's there, he's kinda like a tick. He digs in his roots and starts to suck the life out of you."

"So, my brother is a bothersome parasite?" Jeff asked. His look of confusion mirrored John's from earlier.

"To a pregnant and hormonal… well, moody… Phil? Yes. Yes, he is." John nodded sympathetically.

Jeff reflected back on their little hate-fest from earlier. He couldn't even remember the names that they had called each other, but he could see that with each insult thrown, Phil was only getting angrier. It was like he felt out of place in his own home and therefore he felt obligated to leave. And, technically, it _was_ Jeff's fault that his brother was there in the first place. So, in a sense, it was Jeff's fault that Phil felt this way.

But what could he do about it? It wasn't like he could just _take back_ all that he said about Phil. He had said it in the heat of the moment, after he feared that Phil had given up on their relationship because he was now 'damaged goods'. And isn't it true that the most honest words to ever come out of your mouth are in the heat of the moment? That, or bold-faced lies. And he knew that _some_ (not all) of what he had said had been truthful. He couldn't conceal them with lies.

John watched all of these emotions flicker across Jeff's face, each one followed by a new level of realization. John smiled. In the end, Jeff would always be the parental figure of their little trio and John and Adam would be his wayward children. But sometimes, those roles needed to be reversed. Sometimes, the children could see the light where the parents couldn't. And, in this case, Jeff had been blind to the obvious truth. Phil needed someone to let him know he was still in control.

"Where is Phil now?" John asked as he took another swig of his water.

Jeff's face went blank as he tried to think. "He went to the store. He's been spending a lot of time there lately, even when we don't need food. He just comes back with new stuff for the baby. Unisex, because we don't know the gender yet."

John nodded. "You should head home." He leaned forward and set the water bottle on the coffee table. "Surprise him. Does he normally cook?" Jeff nodded. "Maybe make him a romantic dinner and give him a massage?"

Jeff nodded as he took all of this advice to heart. "But what should I do about my brother?"

John took out his phone, scrolled down his list of contacts, and found Amy's number. "Oh, don't worry, that's covered."

"Thanks so much, man. I don't know what I would do without you." Jeff said. He rose and ruffled the other man's dense black locks affectionately. John mewled and tried to move away.

"Don't mess with the hair, man!" John cried. He dropped the phone onto his lap and frantically tried to fix his hair to no avail. "And don't worry. You _so_ owe me for this one."

"I kinda figured. Whatever you need, whenever, I'll be there." Jeff promised, before he walked out the door. "Thanks again, John!" And then, the door closed softly behind him.

John leaned back into his chair and closed his eyes. Now that that crisis was averted, maybe there was time for a little nap before Mike came home from work. His feet slowly worked the chair back and forth, back and forth, lulling him into a sense of security. The baby kicked and he gently soothed him, whispering sweet nothings to the baby until he finally succumbed to exhaustion and fell away into dreamland.

* * *

Mark leaned back in his wheelchair as he watched Hunter sleep. It was still too much physical exertion for him to walk from his room to Hunter's, or so the doctor had said, so he borrowed a wheelchair twice a week and had one of the nurses wheel him down so he could spend an hour or two with his husband. Nobody knew exactly what had happened to him, but they did realize that he had experienced an extreme surge in his pain levels and had upped his medication.

Lilly stood a few inches in front of him, her elbows pressing into the soft, white mattress as she examined her Mommy's body. This was the first time that she had been allowed to see him in who knew _how many_ months, so it was understandable that she wanted to examine him closely to ensure that nothing had changed. And, for the most part, he looked absolutely normal. Other than the oxygen mask and all of the wires and the bloody gauze, that is.

Mark had had to explain to Lilly that Hunter had had a lot of booboos, just like he did. Only Mommy wasn't recovering as quickly as he had – he left out the obvious, as quickly as he _should_ be. Mark had been injured more severely than he had, so it was only logical that _Hunter_ should be the one in the wheelchair coming to visit _him._ But it hadn't turned out that way and nobody knew why. _That_ was what scared him the most. _Not knowing_ why his husband might never wake up.

"Daddy?" Lilly turned to him, her pretty blonde ponytails swishing over her little shoulders. Her blue eyes shimmered with tears as she walked over to him and carefully climbed into his lap. "What's wrong with Mommy?"

Hunter sighed. He had known that she would have all of these questions – that's why he hadn't wanted her to see Hunter yet. But she had insisted and cried, and he hated it when she cried. "Mommy has a lot of booboos, sweetheart."

"But Mommy is really strong. You told me that he once tackled that really nasty man at the club with a broken arm. That was a booboo too, and that got better." Mark had left off the part where his arm got broken a second time because of it.

"Yes, flower. That was a booboo too and that got better." Mark nodded. Slowly, he stroked her silken hair.

"So this will get better soon too, right?" Lilly asked.

"It should." Mark agreed.

Suddenly, the little child blinked her tears away as a bright idea lit her damp blue eyes. Hurriedly, she climbed off of her Daddy's lap and walked back over to the bedside, where she had once stood. The mattress was still indented from where her little elbows had pushed into the material. She leaned over the side of the bed, her eyes frantically searching for what she needed. And then, she found it. His _hand_.

Carefully, she took the hand that wasn't attached to all of the wires – which, thankfully, was also the arm that wasn't affected by the bullet wound – and lifted it. Her tiny arms shook with the difficulty of it because she wasn't used to lifting that much dead weight. But finally, after all her hard work, his hand stretched out on the white sheets. And she bent down and kissed the skin there, before she held his hand and squeezed.

"What was that for, flower?" Mark asked confusion lacing his tone.

"Mommy and Daddy always kiss my booboos to make them better. I didn't want to kiss his actual booboo, 'cause it's all bloody and yucky. Do you think the kiss will make it anyway?" Lilly asked her eyes hopeful.

Unbidden, Mark felt tears start to blur his vision. "Yeah, flower. I think that the kiss will help him heal real fast." He could only hope that that was true.

* * *

Randy looked down at Adam, who was curled into his side, asleep. All of the stress of this horrific situation had finally caught up with him and he had just crashed. Tears streaked down his beautiful face, even in his unconscious state, and he mumbled about Brielle. Randy frowned as he stroked the blond's soft, silken hair. It took a Class A bastard to take a man's child away from him, especially with all that Adam had done to keep that angel as safe and healthy as she could be.

They had called and left a message for Jay, telling him to call back at his earliest convenience. Now, all that they could do was wait. Adam had worked himself into a frenzy, worrying over whether Brielle had been taking her medication, whether she had a bed to lay down in, whether Chris was feeding her properly… the list went on and on. Randy just shushed him softly and promised him that he would do all that was within his power to bring Brielle back to him.

Subconsciously, both men could feel this connection start to form between them. Neither man really realized it, but the stress of the situation had brought them undeniably closer. Randy cared for Adam and, even if he had never met Brielle, he cared about her too. But it was something deeper than that. He _cared_ about the fact that Adam was breaking down without his baby and not just a friendly-concern kind of way. He _wanted_ to be the one to make it better for Adam.

Adam stirred and started to mumble again in his sleep. "Chris? Chris! Get your hands off of me! Stop it! _Stop it!_" Adam screamed and started to thrash in Randy's arms. Randy only held him tighter.

"Shh… shh… it's not Chris, Adam. It's Randy. I'm not gonna hurt you. And I'm certainly not gonna let that bastard hurt you or Brielle. Shh… shh…" Randy wiped the tears away from Adam's eyes and tenderly kissed his reddened cheeks.

Eventually, Adam settled back down into his fitful slumber. Randy stared down into his face, trying to commit every line and curve to detail, fearing that he would never be able to look at it like this again. He hadn't felt this way since before Sam died, and after her death, he had sworn that he would never love again. Apparently, his promises were as good as Fool's Gold. Because he could feel himself falling in love with Adam and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"Hush now, baby. It's okay. Soon, you'll have Brielle back in your arms. She'll be safe and sound and _healthy_. You won't have to work in that club anymore. I'll get you a job at the modeling agency. You'd make a beautiful model, you know?"

Adam finally relaxed in his arms and mewled, "Randy…"

"Yes, Adam. I'm right here, and I'm not going _anywhere_…"


	25. Lessons in Life

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Non-Con, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

Contrary to what some may believe, Randy was not hurt or offended when Adam acted as if he didn't have a clue about what transpired. In fact, if he were totally honest with himself, he _wasn't_ sure about what had transpired. For the first time since the death of Sam, he had _felt_. But more than that, he had _allowed_ himself to feel. It was a major step in such a short amount of time and, for lack of a better term, he wasn't sure how he felt about it.

There wasn't any food in the house – what was there was either rancid or merely just an empty box or container on a shelf. When Randy would ask about this later, Adam would confess that he hadn't been to the store since Brielle had first left. If Brielle died, there was no reason for him to be around anymore. Nobody cared about him _that_ much. Even Jeff had his own life to worry about now… and Randy's heart had broken as the first tears streaked down his face.

So, he took him out for breakfast. They went to the local Denny's and were seated at a table for two by the window. Adam looked around in an embarrassed manner, obviously rather impressed by the caliber of dress (which really wasn't all that fancy, but as he looked down at his hole-ridden sweats, it was better than _he_ owned) and embarrassed about his own. All his money went to Brielle – the club supplied his outfits for him. Randy took his hand.

Adam stared down at it for a minute, unsure of what to make of it. "You know, you didn't have to do this. I don't want you to start to feel like I'm your charity case. I don't need handouts from anyone."

Randy nodded. "Of course you don't. I never once believed that you did." Randy confessed firmly. "I know this may come as a shock to you, but there actually are _some_ nice men in the world."

"They are few and far between." Adam said with a wry smile. "And I have yet to come across one. You learn real fast that people all have their own agendas. Nobody really cares about anyone but themselves."

Randy raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what makes you think that?" He asked.

Their coffee arrived and Adam started to fix his haphazardly. "Take JoMo for example."

"John Morrison? As in, Mike Mizanin's fiancée?" Randy asked with a hint of surprise.

Adam nodded. "The same." He tossed his sugar packets onto the table and sipped his coffee. Perfect. "When JoMo started out in the business, he was flat broke. But when he started to strip, the men fell head over heels for him. JoMo soon learned to associate true beauty… and money, unfortunately… with his body.

"Recently, he was a little short on cash. Vince was reluctant to raise his stipend because the club wasn't making all that much money. After all, all of the dancers are out with injuries, and why would you go to a gay strip club that doesn't have any dancers? So JoMo sucked him off. Got himself a bonus of ten-thousand dollars."

The words hung in the air heavily. Adam just brushed the comment off, as if he did not understand the magnitude of what he had just confessed. JoMo, who had been engaged to Mike for three months now and was almost seven months pregnant with their son, had sucked off his boss for _money_. That wasn't just a male model or a male stripper. That dipped dangerously into the territory of male prostitute and Randy didn't like it at all.

This, of course, made him start to wonder about what kind of sexual favors _Adam_ had done to earn a little extra money for Brielle. As much as he didn't want to admit it, a house that size didn't come cheap. Add in the babysitter, the utility bill, the electrical bill, and the mortgage, and you're looking at about one-hundred thousand dollars _monthly_. It was sad because the house was so out of shape and sucking Adam's money down the drain, but still…

But then, he shook it off. He tried his best to put himself in Adam's shoes, but it was hard. If it was him in this situation, would he want his potential boyfriend to sit across the table from him and judge him silently? No. Not when he had done everything to keep his child safe and now his child had been brutally taken from the one place she should have been taken care of: the hospital. No, it wasn't fair of him to sit there and judge Adam.

"Okay, so maybe there is some truth to your statement. But I don't think that _everyone_ always has to have some kind of trick up their sleeve. Sometimes, I like to think that people do things from the goodness of their heart."

Adam smiled dryly at him and it didn't reach his eyes. "That's assuming that people have a heart to begin with. I'm not that much older than you, Randy. You still have a lot to learn."

"About what? How untrustworthy people are?" Randy asked.

Adam shook his head. "Life."

Their food arrived then and Adam didn't say another word as he started to eat like a starved man. He must've truly trusted Randy to help him obtain his daughter, because last night, he wouldn't touch the food at all. All night, Randy was constantly haunted by the words that would spill from Adam's mouth about Chris and the rumble of his stomach as he starved himself. And he knew one thing for sure: Adam needed him now, more than ever.

* * *

"Well, Mr. Irvine, I have Brielle's test results." The doctor said with a small, macabre smile. "The results of the cat scan were positive. She has no long-term injuries from the tumble with the car seat. She does have a minor concussion, however. She'll need to stay overnight so that we can monitor that.

"However, I'm afraid that I will have to be the bearer of bad news with her chest x-ray. It showed that one of the valves has burst. If she recently had surgery to repair one of the valves, as you said, to much movement and jostling could cause added pressure in the heart, and that constant pressure would mess-up any work done there.

"Brielle will need to have emergency heart surgery. I assure you that our best doctor has been assigned to the case. But I will need you to sign off on it. If she does not receive this operation, it is incredibly likely that she will continue to bleed internally until she dies from it sometime…" the doctor looked at her chart. "Tomorrow."

Chris stared at her wide-eyed, needless to say a little shocked by the doctor's bold declaration about Brielle's death date. "Why would it occur so fast? Why would it be tomorrow?"

The doctor smiled sadly. It seemed to be a smile that all doctor's had in their arsenal. "Brielle is bleeding internally. This means that she is losing blood, but she doesn't have any visible wounds. In a sense, she'll bleed to death."

Chris took the papers from her and signed over Brielle's life immediately. "Of course, of course. Anything that can be done to save her, please. Please, I cannot live without her."

"I assure you that we will do all that we can. I cannot guarantee her survival, because it seems that this has been prolonged into an extensive operation, but this doctor has a ninety-five percent success rate."

Chris was already disinterested in the whole matter. "That's fine by me. Do whatever you need to."

The doctor looked at him oddly, more than a little put off by the way he had just dismissed the whole situation so callously. She had been getting uncomfortable vibes from this man since he had first come in with Brielle, but never before had she felt a need to act on them. And why should she? The father _obviously_ cared for her. Or, at least, he had until this moment. Now, he looked as if he had had a hand in her current situation.

But she didn't act on any of her vibes. Instead, she just walked out of the room to tell the doctor to prep her for surgery as soon as possible. Immediately, Chris turned to Brielle and yanked her back by her hair. Her baby blue eyes slowly fluttered as she looked at him tiredly, barely conscious. Chris shook her back and forth a few times and that initial grogginess left her almost immediately. Now, she was wide awake.

"Your slut of a mother did this to you, kid. Don't look at me like that." Chris said rudely.

Brielle choked back a sob. "I want my Mommy."

Not even bothering to make sure that nobody was around, Chris slapped her across the face, totally neglecting to notice the figure in the far corner of the emergency room. "Did I say that you could talk? No. Shut your mouth and go back to sleep."

Terrified, Brielle did as she was told.


	26. The First Kiss

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warnings: **Slash, Het, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Non-Con, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

A few minutes later, the doctor and a few nurses came back to wheel Brielle to the OR. If they noticed the bruise on Brielle's cheek, nobody mentioned it. Chris was thankful for that. He had to take a moment and clear his head, or else he could lose his cool entirely and cold lose all that he had worked so hard for. It may not seem like it, but he _did_ love Brielle. After all, she _was_ his child. Not Adam's, no. He refused to admit that she was related to that whore.

Once her bed rounded the corner and was out of Chris' line of vision, the man who had witnessed him strike Brielle came out of the shadows. His name was Officer Ryan Reeves and he worked for the FBI in the missing persons division, but more specifically, he searched for children that had been kidnapped with malicious intent. It had been suspicious to him that Chris received the court order to take Brielle away from Adam when there had been no reported abuse before.

"Mr. Irvine?" Ryan walked over to him and showed him his badge. To say that all of the color drained out of his face would have been an understatement. He looked like he was about to be sick. "My name is Officer Reeves. I'm with the FBI."

Chris swallowed hard and decided to play it cool. "That's nice, officer. Was there something specific that you wanted to talk with me about?" A brief, curt nod. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm actually here to talk with you about your daughter, Brielle. You see, I'm with the missing persons division. I'm here to talk with you about the terms of your custody agreement." Ryan stated calmly.

Chris raised an eyebrow. "If you really are with the FBI, then you would have access to all of the records. I don't understand what the problem is, sir. Brielle is _my _daughter."

"That's true, Mr. Irvine. But under the terms of your emergency custody agreement, you cannot take Brielle out of the country until a formal hearing between yourself and Mr. Copeland is held. You kidnapped Brielle, sir."

"What?" Chris choked on the word. He never even thought of the fact that he had _kidnapped_ her.

"You're under arrest, Mr. Irvine. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you…"

Ryan grabbed hold of Chris' arm and yanked him out of his comfy little chair. There was an uncomfortable silence when both men noticed the blood on his hands. Chris hadn't even realized that Brielle had bled on him when he had smacked her across the face. Yanking him forward a little harder than he needed to, he secured the handcuffs around Chris' wrists and brutally shoved him forward. All the while, Chris continued to babble on like an idiot.

Ryan didn't want to listen to a word of it. He didn't honestly care. He had seen firsthand that Chris was an abusive bastard. He doubted that Adam had ever laid a hand on that child. The only one who had ever hurt her was Chris. And Chris had most likely hurt Adam too. But that was only speculation. Ryan had more evidence to pin on Chris that was concrete, but he could use the alleged abuse against Adam for characterization.

"You can't do this to me!" Chris struggled in Ryan's arms, but the man was much bigger than he was. "I would never lay a hand on that child! It was her stupid whore of a mother that did this to her!"

Ryan had to resist the urge to smack him across the face. He didn't want the case to be thrown out because he had assaulted the criminal. "I also have proof that you tried to kill Mark and Hunter Calloway."

"I would never -," but Ryan cut him off this time, because he honestly couldn't hear another word from his mouth.

"Do you realize that they have a five-year-old daughter? She could lose her mother because you had to be a sick, twisted bastard and _stick your finger in his wound_. He's bleeding internally now." Ryan hissed.

"Do I look like I care?" Chris hissed back. And then, after a momentary pause, spat in Ryan's face.

That was it. Ryan took Chris by the hair and bashed his face into the wall. "Behave, before I do something I'll regret."

"Is that a threat?" Chris smiled lecherously.

But Ryan's smile was darker, more sinister. "No." He leaned in until Chris could feel his breath on his neck. "It's a promise. You've crossed the line this time, Chris. It's time to pay the piper."

Without another word between them, Ryan yanked him away from the wall and forced him out into the hallway. It was as if the tension had been broken and a new light was shed on that room. Ryan shoved Chris into the back of his cruiser and slammed the door so hard that Chris' body trembled. Or maybe it was from fear. Ryan didn't know and, to be honest, he didn't care. He had saved that little girl from her abusive father. His mission was successful.

* * *

"You seem tense. Got something on your mind?" Adam asked. It seemed odd that he would ask that, considering the somewhat awkward conversation that they had had a few minutes earlier.

"I was just wondering… I don't want to push my luck or anything, because I'm happy with what we have now. I was just wondering why you trust me so much. I mean, we barely know each other." Randy said.

"That's true." Adam nodded. He took a sip of his coffee. "I think that it might be due to the fact that, in some twisted way, we're both kinda in the same boat. You have a little girl. You love her more than life itself."

Randy raised one dark eyebrow. "Don't get me wrong. I do love my little girl. But how does that make me trustworthy?"

Adam stared into his coffee. "Because I know what it means to raise a child on your own. It's difficult. It's so, _so_ difficult. It takes a _real_ man to not walk away. Not like Chris. I guess that's why I trust you."

For a moment, silence passed on between them. "You know what?"

Adam blinked at him. "What?"

"You're really cute when you're all pensive like that."

Adam blushed darkly and tried to hide behind his hair. It didn't work out too well because it wasn't as long as it used to be, but Randy couldn't help but think he was so cute when he was embarrassed. "Randy…"

"Hmm?" Randy found that he had been staring at Adam's lips for a few seconds too long and allowed his eyes to flicker up to meet Adam's. "Do you know what I want to do right now, Adam?"

Adam shook his head, even though he was fairly certain that he knew _exactly_ what it was that Randy wanted to do. His blush darkened. "What?"

"I want to kiss you goodnight." It was only then that he realized that they had spent all day together, which they had been doing more and more recently. "Will you let me kiss you goodnight?"

Adam stared at him adoringly, innocently, and nodded vacantly. "Yes." He whispered.

Randy leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to Adam's, not wanting to scare Adam off before he had this one chance to feel Adam's body gently pressed against his. There was nothing really erotic about the way that they held each other. It was merely an attempt to form a connection, two broken souls searching for each other in nothingness. Adam had been raped and had lost his daughter, Randy had lost his wife. It seemed superficial to compare them, but still…

When Adam's hands slowly started to inch up his chest, Randy was barely able to contain a shudder. Gently, he lost his hands in Adam's loose blond locks. The kiss continued, gaining a little more heat as Randy's tongue gently brushed over Adam's bottom lip. Hesitating, but only for a moment, Adam opened his mouth and allowed Randy's tongue to slide inside. He moaned when Randy's tongue caressed his own. Randy held him a little tighter and he didn't object.

Not wanting to draw back, but not wanting to push too much on Adam before he was ready, Randy drew back. He whispered a brief 'goodbye' to Adam, before he hurried out the door and into the brisk night. Adam watched him leave, his hazel eyes blown wide. And then, unbidden, the tears started to fall. For the first time since he could remember, he felt loved and wanted. He didn't want it to ever end.

And then, he realized what he had to do. He had to call his mother.


	27. Payment in Full

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Domestic Violence, etc.

* * *

Two days later, John Morrison was hit with his first contraction. It came in the middle of the night, when he was curled around Mike's exhausted body. A round of nausea hit him full-force and he squeezed his eyes shut, his hands tightening around Mike's night-shirt. He let out a little moan and found that his breath came out in short, labored spurts. He knew that he shouldn't be, but he was scared. And his terror didn't ease the pain at all.

Slowly, the pain started to fade away. John counted back from ten and by then, it had dissipated entirely. He let his head fall down onto the pillow and he blinked a few times, not surprised to find that a few tears had collected on his dark lashes. It was amazing how fast his body forgot that pain. However, he understood that it would be back sooner rather than later. It was best to wake Mike now, rather than wait until it was too late. Gently, he shook his fiancée.

"Mike?" He whispered. His body trembled as the ice-cold air hit his naked skin for the first time. "Mike, you have to wake up. It's time." He shook him a little harder when this didn't seem to faze him.

"Hmm? Five more minutes, Mommy." Mike mumbled incoherently, before he rolled over so that his back as to John and cuddled further into the mattress. John rolled his eyes.

"Michael Mizanin, your son wants to be born _now_. It would be most appreciated if you would get off of your lazy ass and help me drive to the hospital!" He finished with a scream as another contraction hit.

Mike nearly fell off of the bed in shock. "Holy hell, John! What the fuck was that for?" Once he composed himself, he realized what was about to happen. "The baby… oh, shit John! Why didn't you wake me sooner?"

John's chocolate brown eyes blew wide. "Baby, I've been trying to wake you for ten minutes!"

"Never mind that. I have to… And the bag isn't packed… And you're not dressed… And… Oh shit!"

John barely contained a chuckle as Mike face-planted on the wooden floor, his bottom half still cocooned within the blankets. "Calm down, baby. This is nothing to get so worked up about."

"You're about to have a _baby_! Of _course_ this is something to get worked up about!"

Once the contraction passed, John took a deep breath and rolled out of bed. He located the bag, which was indeed packed, and set it on the bed so that Mike could easily reach it. He also pointed out that he didn't mind going in his pajamas. After all, he would have to change into a robe once he arrived anyhow. And when Mike started to complain about the fact that he couldn't find his keys, John located those as well and tossed them at Mike's chest.

Deciding that anything else could wait until they reached the hospital, Mike hurried out to the car and started it, turning the heat on full blast so that John wouldn't be too cold. And then, rushing back to their front door, he took John by the hand and led him to the car. Easing him inside, he buckled him in and reclined the chair a bit more to make him more comfortable. And then, sliding into the driver's seat, he sped off in the direction of the hospital.

* * *

Jeff stretched out beside Phil, the smaller raven curled into his arms. He traced his hand over Phil's slightly distended abdomen. The gentle, almost loving touch reminded him that he hadn't been intimate with the raven for almost a month and a half now. It was hard for him and Phil understood that. Jeff was such a dominate creature, so to be taken in such a cruel way couldn't have been easy on him mentally or physically.

However, that didn't mean that it was fair to Phil for him to hold out on him entirely. Phil needed love to, even if he swore that he could wait until Jeff was ready for them to take it to the next level. And even if he couldn't go all the way, he could at least pleasure him, couldn't he? He could at least remind Phil that he was wanted, that he was needed, and loved, couldn't he? But it was so much easier said than done.

"Phil?" Jeff murmured softly. "Phil… if I was never able to… to make love to you again… would you still love me? Would you still want to be with me? I can understand if you said no, but…"

Phil looked at him tiredly, his eyes hazed over. "What are you talking about, Jeff? Of course I would still love you. I didn't think that our relationship was based entirely off of sex. Was I wrong about that?"

Hurriedly, Jeff shook his head. "No! No, baby. I love you so much, Phil." Jeff amended the way that he had worded his sentence. "I feel as if I'm cheating you out of something that you deserve. I _should_ be able to do this for you."

Phil blinked a few times to wake himself up, before he propped his pillows up on the headboard and sat up. "Jeff, it's not your fault that some jackass attacked you."

"I _let_ him attack me, Phil. That's why it was my fault. I should have tried harder to -,"

Phil cut him off. "Don't talk like that, Jeff. You're making me want to track that bastard down and strangle him."

Jeff smiled ruefully and started to play with Phil's hair. "Oh, trust me. I want to do that too."

"Jeff, don't worry about it. I am willing to wait until you're ready to take it to the next level. Don't force it."

Jeff just shook his head and continued to stroke Phil's raven locks. "I'm sorry, baby. It's late and I shouldn't be bothering you with all of this at this hour. We can talk about it tomorrow."

But Phil didn't believe a word that came out of his mouth. "No, Jeff, I don't think so. I think that this has been bothering you for a long time and I think that we needed to talk about this _now_."

Jeff didn't know what to do. He was scared, truth be told. He was scared to lay his heart on the line like this, knowing that, at any moment, Phil could snatch it in his hands and crush it. Phil was the only man in the world that he had bore his heart to entirely and Phil could easily _kill_ him, if only in a mental/emotional sense. Jeff forced air into his lungs and closed his eyes, burying his face in Phil's chest and inhaling the comforting scent.

Phil shifted around a little bit and kissed him softly. It was supposed to be a sign of reassurance, showing him that he would love him no matter what, but it only made Jeff tense. Finally, Phil pulled back and sighed. He rolled out of Jeff's arms and wandered into the bathroom, where he closed the door behind him. A few minutes later, the water started to run. Jeff could hear it, but only distantly. Mainly, he focused in on the tingling in his lips.

_This_ was what love was supposed to feel like. It wasn't forced, it wasn't frantic. It was loving someone so much that you would put their needs before your own. It was being _other_-centered instead of _self-_centered. And Phil had just displayed that in that one little kiss. He loved Jeff more than words could ever tell. And because he had pulled away before that kiss could become more, Jeff knew that he could try. It may not work, but he could try. For Phil.

* * *

"Adam Copeland? My name is Jason Reso. I will be the lawyer that will be handling your custody battle against Mr. Chris Irvine." Jay said as he took a seat in his office chair. Adam raised one blond eyebrow.

"I don't understand." Adam said slowly. "I talked with a woman from your office and told her that I couldn't afford your prices. Even though I am extremely thankful for your help, I can't afford it."

This time, it was Jay's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Oh, you don't have to worry about that. My services have been paid for in full. And the donor has also put a down-payment on the success of the case as well."

All of the color drained out of Adam's face. It seemed like he had been accepting too many handouts lately. "And who was this 'donor'?"

"His name was Randy Orton. He works for a modeling company. I was reluctant to accept the payment, but he said that it was important to him that you got the help you needed for your child. That she's in danger."

A flood of relief and something stronger washed over Adam. Could it have been love? No. Adam had never been 'in love' before, so he didn't know what it would feel like. "Oh." Was all that he could say. But nevertheless, he smiled.


	28. Faith in the System

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle and Lilly.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warnings:** Slash, Het, Exotic Dancing, Stripping, Violence, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

"_Mr. Reso?"_ The silken voice of Jay's secretary, Aksana, washed over the intercom. _"You have a call on line five. The man says that his name is Officer Ryan Reeves. He's the head detective on the Copeland-Abduction Case."_

Jay nodded briskly, before he turned his attention to his client. "Do you mind if I take this?" Adam shook his head. "I'll take that call now, Aksana. Thanks." He hit the button for line five and intercepted the call.

Adam closed his eyes and anxiously worried his bottom lip. He felt incredibly uncomfortable in the new leather armchair, surrounded by thousands of dollars worth of useless knickknacks that were only bought to waste away the excess money that he had. If he had _half_ of the money that _one_ of those items was worth, he wouldn't need to be here. But as soon as that thought came to him, he silently chastised himself. Nothing good ever came from wishing for something that you knew full-well you could never have.

And so, he busied himself with watching the lawyer as he went into his own little legal-zone. Legal terms that were much too complicated for Adam's overly exhausted brain to comprehend poured from his mouth. Briefly, he thought that he had heard Jay mention Brielle's name. But that moment of hope came and went, again to be veiled by legal terms out of his realm of understanding. And then, in an instant, the tone of the conversation changed. Jay seemed as if he were _praising_ this 'Ryan' character for his hard work. But what had he done?

Finally, after several more minutes, Jay ended the call. He shuffled through some of the files, before he found a case file on Mark and Hunter Calloway and their medical state after an unknown shooter had nearly claimed both of their lives. Adam's eyes widened. Did he know who had attacked them? And then, when the papers were transferred over to Brielle's case file, it all became unbearably clear. In order to break him, Chris had taken Brielle. But in order to make his presence known, to make sure Adam _knew_ it was him, he shot Mark and Hunter. It was sick.

"I'm sorry about that. I had to take that call. However, on the other hand, I have some excellent news for you. Officer Ryan Reeves with the FBI missing persons division has managed to locate your daughter." Jay said.

Adam blinked dumbly, almost as if he didn't understand the words as they came out of Jay's mouth. "He… He _found_ her? Dear God, where is she? Is she okay? Is she healthy? Is she safe?" Adam ranted on and on.

Jay raised one hand and Adam fell silent. "There's a lot that we still don't know. Right now, she's in surgery." At Adam's look of confusion, he elaborated. "Her new heart valve defected."

Adam choked on a sob. "It's all _his_ fucking fault! She shouldn't have been taken from the hospital so soon."

Jay nodded. "But we need to prove that and, in order to do so; I need you in the best frame of mind possible."

Adam sniffled. He scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand and let out a muted little wail. "I just miss her so, _so_ much. I need to know that she's safe. Where… where is she?"

"Vancouver." Jay answered. "And as soon as she is healthy, she will be brought back to the US."

"To be thrust into the middle of a brutal custody battle." Adam finished sadly.

"To be thrust into the middle of a brutal custody battle that you will _win_." Jay countered.

"I'm just not so sure that that is what will happen. I'm scared that… that… Chris will gain full custody of Brielle."

Jay shook his head. Reaching across the table, he took Adam's hand and squeezed it slightly. "You just have to have a little confidence and a lot of faith. Confidence in yourself, faith in the system."

Adam looked him directly in the eyes, a cold honestly residing in the hazel depths. "I have a lot of reasons to not have faith in the system anymore."

It was true, however sad it sounded. When he had been raped, he had done everything that he was encouraged to do; no matter how horrifically it humiliated him. He'd gone to the hospital and let them run the rape kit. He'd answered all of the questions that the police had thrown at him. He'd gone to the station and picked him out of a lineup. But when it came time for him to have his day in court, the judge had thrown out the case because they didn't have 'enough evidence'. It had killed him, both physically and emotionally. But he never let it show.

But, of course, he didn't tell this to Jay. He hadn't told this to anyone. It was his burden to carry and for six years, he had carried that burden alone. Now, as Jay handed him file after file, explaining to him the case that had been carefully constructed against Chris, he wondered if, maybe, this time, it would work. Maybe, this time, the case would play in his favor and he would be allowed that moment of blissful happiness when Brielle would throw herself into his arms again. That was what he dreamed of, but he knew that it was only that. A dream.

"…And are you with me, Mr. Copeland?" Jay stopped mid-tirade to ask if Adam was even following him.

Adam blinked. "What?"

"I asked if you were listening to me. We were talking about Chris and the reason why he may want to hurt Mark and Hunter. That's when you zoned out, I think." Jay said.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Adam shook his head and cleared it. "Where were we?"

* * *

Mark came home later that week. Because Hunter was like a son to Vince, Vince had offered his home to Mark until the younger man could recuperate from his injury. After all, he wouldn't be able to tend to the upkeep of his house in his current state. That, and he would need someone to watch over Lilly. Mark had been hesitant to accept, but in the end, had seen no other alternative. So now, as Vince carried all of his belongings into the house, Mark held Lilly's hand and walked along the sidewalk. Lilly looked on sadly, looking for her Mommy.

Mark sighed. He honestly wasn't sure if Hunter would ever make it home. Last week, Hunter had been put on life support because it was discovered that his lungs could not function on their own. It had terrified Mark, but at the same time, he wasn't surprised. After all, the doctor had told him that some sick bastard had come up with the idea to stick their finger into his wound. Covered in gauze, of course. But it had torn all of the stitches and scratched some of the nerves raw. The wound was uncomfortably close to his heart and the doctors were worried over that.

Finally, Lilly turned to him and smiled sweetly at him. With her tiny little hand, she took his free hand and stepped onto his bigger feet. He knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to dance. This was what Hunter and Lilly used to do on days when there wasn't any 'quality' entertainment on TV (which, nowadays, consisted of Sesame Street and Looney Toons). Not wanting to stress his body out too much, he carefully moved around, swaying back and forth to make it seem as if they were dancing. He couldn't help but smile when Lilly started to hum off-key.

"Daddy? Can I ask you a question?" Lilly blinked at him innocently. There was such sweet sincerity in her voice, Mark had no choice but to nod. "Does Mommy love us?"

Mark looked at her, astonished. How could she think that Hunter _didn't_ love her? "Of course he loves you, sweetie. You're his whole world. Why would you doubt that?"

"If he loves us so much, like you say that he does, then why doesn't he come home? My kisses should have made him better. I love him and he loves me, so my kisses should make him feel better."

Mark smiled sadly. "Honey, it doesn't always work like that."

Lilly continued to look at him in innocent confusion. "I don't understand."

"Life isn't always so cut and dry, Flower. Sometimes, stuff happens that just doesn't make any sense."

Lilly just blinked at him.

Mark bent at the waist and lifted Lilly into his arms carefully. His back protested, but he knew that, right now, he needed to hold his baby girl. He didn't know if this was a lie, the truth, or something in between. All he knew was that he had to tell her _something_. And so, he said, "He'll be home soon, Flower. He'll be home soon."


	29. The Truth Is Revealed

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle and Lilly.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Exotic Dancing, Stripping, Mpreg, Non-Con, etc.

* * *

"I don't understand what you want with me, Officer Reeves. I would never lay a hand on that child. I would rather _die_." Chris assured Ryan. The officer raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.

Chris sighed as he leaned back in his swivel chair, looking around the interrogation room with bored eyes. It had seemed like a lifetime since he had last seen the inside of one in person, instead of on all those crime dramas that his father insisted on watching. The last time he had been here was when he was hauled in for the 'rape' of Adam Copeland. A few thousand dollars under the table had made those accusations disappear, however.

Chris' calm blue eyes flickered to Ryan, who stirred some sweetener into his coffee. He didn't trust him. The FBI had no reason to suspect that he had done anything to Brielle, which meant that he had to have somebody who worked on the inside for him. His father? No, that man was old, but he wasn't stupid. He knew what Chris could do to him if he found out that he had betrayed him. This only left a handful of people that he had come in contact with.

And then, a sinking realization filled him. The _doctor_. The damn _doctor_. He should've known better than to trust her! She had examined Brielle a little too closely, had seen hints of bruises underneath her tiny hospital gown. She must've been Officer Reeves' informant. Chris' hands clenched into fists around the edge of the table and, though he tried his best to remain calm, his façade was cracking. This Officer Reeves already had a foot in the door to victory.

Ryan took a seat across from him and started to sip his coffee lazily. It seemed as if he was in no hurry to start the interrogation. "Well?" Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Are you gonna ask me something, or are we gonna sit here all day?"

"You want me to ask you something?" Chris nodded. "Okay." Setting his coffee down, he took out a file and opened it. "These are the results of Adam Copeland's rape kit, taken six years ago. Read it over. Tell me what it says."

"It says that he was raped and refused the morning after pill. What does this have to do with me?" Chris asked.

Ryan waved his hand. "Tell me the name of his attacker."

Chris sighed. "_I_ am listed as the attacker."

Ryan took the file out of his hand. "Well, look at that. You _are_ listed as the attacker." He rolled his eyes, flipped to the next page, and pointed to the DNA test. "Now, tell me what that says."

Chris looked it over. It was the DNA test to determine Brielle's biological father. "It says that her parents are Adam Copeland and… Wade Barrett? But… But I don't understand. How is that even possible?"

"You're not her father, Chris." Ryan stated calmly.

"How can I _not_ be her father?" Chris screamed. "Adam _told_ me -,"

"Adam lied to you. He's known from the start that you weren't her father. Wade died shortly after Brielle was conceived. He used to hurt Adam too, so Adam was no stranger to abuse."

"No…"

"You're under arrest for the kidnapping of Brielle Copeland. You have the right to remain silent -,"

_"NO!"_ Chris started to thrash about, but Ryan held him down.

All of a sudden, several medical personnel surrounded him and one injected a sedative into his neck. The effect was almost immediate. Chris fell, face-first, onto the table. His body went lax. Ryan took the handcuffs and handcuffed Chris' hands behind his back, and it took all of the men to carry his body out of the room. He would be moved to medical until he awoke, and then he would be moved to his own personal cell.

Now, Ryan walked out of the room and into the main area, fixed himself another cup of coffee, and then took out his phone. He hesitated for a moment, wondering how much time he had before it would be six o' clock AM back in the states. Finally, just throwing caution to the wind, he called Jay. He needed to tell him about Chris' breakdown and that he was hopeful for a break in the case soon.

* * *

Hunter awoke in the middle of the night, his vision blurry as he tried to blink away the last vestiges of sleep. How long had he been out? There was no way to tell. It was incredibly dark in his room and he couldn't see the clock on the wall. A dim light came in from the crack in the door, but it was only marginal and came to a stop just behind the EZ Chair beside his bed. Hunter groaned. Where the hell was he?

And then he remembered. Not in full, of course. He was fairly certain that his mind had blocked out the more gruesome aspects of it to preserve what little sanity he still had left. In the distance, he could hear the rapid fire of a gun. He could see Mark go down, clutching something, it was too dark to see what. There was blood everywhere. And then, there was a blinding pain in his chest. After that, it all went black.

Hunter allowed his eyes to fall closed for a moment. He couldn't help but think about how scared Lilly must be. If only he knew how long he had been out – had it been a few hours, a few days, a few weeks? Worry made his heart ache and an uncomfortable dizziness made it difficult for him to see straight. No, he couldn't let himself become overwhelmed like that. It wasn't safe for his still-delicate health. He needed to relax.

Weakly, he reached out and located the call-button. He pressed it and waited. When the nurse would answer, he would find out the truth. He would find out if Mark was still alive, the fate of his little girl, and the fate of the bastard that had tried to take his everything from him. All he had to do was wait a few more seconds. But even _that_ felt like an eternity, and his eyes were so heavy… when the door burst open, he was already asleep.

* * *

Mike brushed JoMo's slick black hair away from his face, a proud smile dancing across his handsome features. John had worked hard and had earned himself a few gray hairs (not that Mike would ever tell him that, God no, did he _look_ like he wanted to die?) and now, they had a beautiful baby boy to show for it. Looking down at the little baby in the incubator, he knew that this was the way that their story was supposed to play out. _This _was their happily ever after.

With a sigh, JoMo's eyes fluttered. "How is he?"

"He's just fine. Absolutely beautiful, too. He has your eyes and your hair." Mike told him, his voice no louder than a whisper. He wouldn't want to wake the newborn, after all.

Slowly, JoMo turned his head to look at their son, Doan. "Yeah, he does, doesn't he?" He chuckled weakly, but Mike could see that that made the incision in his stomach hurt. "But he has your nose and your mouth."

Mike calmed him, rubbing soothing circles onto his shoulders. "Relax now, baby. I don't want you to overwork yourself. The doc said that the only way for you to heal is if you take it easy."

"I can't laugh now, is that it?" JoMo asked, one eyebrow raised.

Mike smiled. "No. No laughing allowed."

The baby started to stir, so Mike rolled the incubator back and forth a few times to calm him. The baby blinked in surprise, shocked at the sudden movement, and all sniffling stopped entirely. When Mike stopped, Doan stared at him in complete awe. Mike smiled. He was absolutely beautiful. Never before had he thought that he would have a beautiful little son and a loving fiancé to call his own, but now, the impossible had become _possible_.

He started to work out dates for when the two of them could be married. He wanted it to be as soon as possible, to make an honest man out of John. But he also knew that John was a stickler for tradition, and would refuse to have the honeymoon before the eight-weeks of no-sex had passed. So, eight weeks from now. A romantic elopement. Or maybe, a few months after, they could have it in a church. It would all depend on where they were by then.

"Hey, JoMo?" Mike asked softly, running his fingers through John's soft hair.

"Yeah, Mike?" John breathed, shifting around carefully to make himself more comfortable.

"Do you want a white wedding? Like… in a church, with all our friends and family, and flowers and a big ol' cake?" Mike asked, smiling at the very idea of it.

John was silent for a moment and Mike feared that he had fallen asleep. But then, finally, he nodded stiffly. "Yeah… I think that I _would_ like that." And then, closing his eyes, he fell asleep.


	30. One Way Ticket

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Lilly, Brielle, and Doan.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Mpreg, Non-Con, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

Jeff awoke around 7:35 AM, Phil's head on his chest and one of his tattooed arms haphazardly thrown over his lithe waist. He could barely resist a smile. Even in his tousled state, with his short black locks disheveled and the blankets knotted around his body, he was still as handsome as ever. Gently, he leaned down and kissed the other man's forehead. He moaned, shifted a bit to make himself more comfortable, and settled back down into the mattress.

It was rare that he was allowed a moment to admire Phil in his true beauty, when he was away from the flashing cameras focused on his high-class clientele and just lying in Jeff's arms, totally vulnerable and trusting and all of the other fluffy nonsense that they stuffed into chick-flicks. But Jeff knew the truth. Life wasn't always sunsets and roses. And now, as he looked down at Phil's lax body, he wondered if he could fulfill the vow that he made to himself.

After all, no matter what, Phil meant the _world_ to him. He was the one who had talked Jeff into seeking help from a counselor, just to make sure that it didn't all get bottled up inside. He didn't do the rape kit and couldn't identify his attacker, so that was a dead-end there. Now, he had to rely on some pretty hefty medication to keep that smile on his face and face the music that there was a chance he could never make love to Phil again. And that nearly killed him.

He looked over at the clock. 7:45 AM. His shift at the club started at 8:30 AM. The counselor had told him that he needed to quit. It wasn't safe there without Mark and Hunter – and even then, she was suspicious that Vince had a hand in under-the-table money dealings with violent sexual offenders. Jeff hadn't listened to her, though. They needed the money, especially with the new baby on the way. He couldn't just quit now and leave all the work for Phil.

Rolling out of bed, he didn't miss the almost instantaneous reaction of Phil's eyes shooting open and staring at him in silent wonder. If Jeff hadn't been holding him just a few seconds ago, he would've never known that Phil had been asleep. From the look in his wide, emerald eyes, Phil knew _exactly_ where Jeff was going. And he didn't like it. And while he had never been one to beg, there was a first time for everything.

"Jeff… don't do this." Phil breathed. "It's dangerous. You saw what happened to Adam first-hand. And then that bastard attacked _you_. You're taking too many chances with this." If Jeff wasn't mistaken, there were tears there.

Jeff went into the bathroom to change, just like he had ever since the attack. But he left the door open a crack so that they could still talk. "I _have_ to do this, Phil. I can't leave you all alone to fend for the baby."

"But you don't have to go back to that club either. And don't feed me that shit that it's all you know. I could get you a job with AW. You'd be a _great_ model." Phil said. His hormones were taking over and his voice was trembling.

Jeff looked down at his body and felt his own tears brewing. "Baby, I'm _hideous_."

Phil hurriedly shook his head, even if Jeff couldn't see him. "No, you're not. Why would Vince want an ugly dancer?"

"Because he doesn't have anyone else." Jeff confessed. "Adam and I are really the only two he has left."

"What do you mean? He has a staff of twenty dancers!" Phil asked, confused.

Jeff sighed. "JoMo had a baby. To Vince, that means his body is 'ruined' for at _least_ three years. Considering the physique JoMo had going for him, maybe more. Brock decided to make an honest man out of Tyson. They skipped town two weeks ago and Vince got his resignation in the mail. That leaves eighteen.

"AJ is suspended because two men landed in the hospital after a physical confrontation over who would take him to dinner. Vince is _super_ strict on that now that Hunter and Mark are out of commission. Bobby and James, well, they decided they'd rather see _each other_ naked then let the world see them dance.

"Austin got into some Baby Daddy trouble with his two lovers, Chris and Alex. All three of them used to have an exclusive Saturday block from twelve to one. It was a more… intimate show, if you will. But Austin got pregnant and when Chris and Alex found out it wasn't by one of them, Vince fired all three of them to kill the problem at the root.

"Then there's Shawn, who has been dancing for _years_. He's Vince's fuck-toy. He got knocked-up _again_, which will be baby number _four_. Alberto and Ricardo ran off together – don't ask me about that, I still don't understand it myself. Heath got a steady job as a model. But that's understandable, because he is rather 'pretty'.

"Who does that leave? Cody took a bad fall off of the stage and broke his collar bone. A cast isn't exactly 'sexy', you know. Damien got cracked over the head with a beer bottle for upsetting someone with his 'scholarly' ways. And R-Truth and Kofi have been missing for several months now. And Rey, well, you know… That leaves me and Adam."

Silence fell in the other room and Jeff sighed. He knew that Phil didn't want to accept the truth, but he had to come to terms with it if he wanted this relationship to make it for the long haul. Jeff was an exotic dancer. It wasn't like he was a prostitute. That had only been once, and he had been forced into it. Jeff made decent money and it had helped them to afford a beautiful house where they would raise their children. Why couldn't he accept that?

Deep down inside, Jeff _knew_ why. Phil loved him, and when you are in love, in blinds you to the truth. Phil thought that Jeff deserved better, but really, all of that was a lie. Jeff had gotten himself into this mess when he had first met Vince McMahon and nineteen-years-old, and now, all these years later; he was still working with that medically induced smile on his face. This was all he had left, and he would be damned if he would let anyone take it from him.

"I'll be back late. Don't wait for me, okay?" But when Jeff came out of the bathroom, Phil lay on his side with his back to him. He tried to look as if he were asleep, but that wasn't the case. He was crying.

* * *

After the show, Adam dressed anxiously. Jay had taken him to the store and bought him some new clothes. They were a little uncomfortable – the material was rich and expensive, a far cry from the cotton and wool that he was used to – and he wasn't sure what to say about this 'handout' that Jay had bestowed upon him. First, the new clothes. Then, a sealed envelope that wasn't to be opened until after his show. Now, he took the chance to open it.

Two tickets… no, two _first-class_ tickets to Canada. They would let off in Vancouver, less than a mile from the hospital where Brielle was being treated. Adam felt his heart swell. He couldn't believe Jay's kindness. Maybe there was a reason to believe in the system; even after all of the twists and turns that life had thrown his direction. Tucking them into his shirt pocket, he hurriedly finished dressing and took out his phone. Without realizing it, he dialed Randy.

_"What's the matter, baby? Do you realize what time it is?"_ Randy slurred. Adam didn't even think that he could have woken him up. His mind froze and his heart stuttered when Randy called him 'baby'. _"Adam? You there, baby?"_

He cleared his throat and tried to take a deep breath before the heart palpitations caused a panic attack. "Yeah, I'm here. Sorry if I woke you. I just… I have some absolutely _amazing_ news and I need to tell you about it."

Randy was fully awake now. Adam hadn't sounded this excited about something since before Brielle had been kidnapped. _"Mmhmm, tell me about it."_

"Jay bought me two first-class tickets to Vancouver! That's where Chris took Brielle, apparently."

Randy didn't miss the way Adam's voice sank at the end. _"That's wonderful, Adam. What seems to be the problem?"_

Adam sighed. "I'm just… I'm not sure that I can do it by myself. What if she doesn't… what if she doesn't remember me? What if he told her I didn't love her or something?"

_"Are you asking me to come with you?"_ Randy asked tiredly.

Adam blushed a deep red and was thankful that Randy couldn't see it. "Yeah… in a nutshell."

Randy moaned as he rolled over. _"It's 11:30 at night, Adam. You have to know that I really love you to do this for you."_ The bed creaked as he climbed out of bed. _"I'll be there in twenty to drive down to the airport."_

Adam ended the call, barely able to contain his excitement. In a few hours, he would be able to hold his baby in his arms. His beautiful, sweet little baby. She didn't deserve any of this hell. Chris had no right to take her from him the way that he had. In fact, Chris had no parental rights to her at all. Adam had never told Chris that he was or wasn't the father, Chris had made his own assumptions from the start and blamed them all on Adam.

He stuffed his feet into his sneakers and threw all of his stuff into the bag, including the wad of cash that he had earned that night. As sad as it seemed, a depressed star seemed to make more money than a happy star. In that night alone, he had made more than the first months of trying to save up for Brielle's operation combined. He would be sure to tuck that money away so that he could pay John back with it later.

When twenty minutes had passed, the sound of a horn blazing outside could be heard. Clumsily, Adam rushed outside to meet it. This was his ticket to his happily ever after and he would be damned if he let it expire. With Randy at his side, he was sure that he would have the confidence to pull through and see this war with Chris to the end. Was he in love with Randy? Adam wasn't sure. But to know that Randy loved him meant more than words could ever say.

"Did Jay tell you why she was in the hospital?" Randy asked as he helped Adam load all of his stuff into the back of his car. If he remembered correctly, Adam didn't have _half_ as much stuff the last time he was over at his house.

Adam nodded. "He told me a little bit." Looking down at the ground, he kidded at the gravel with the toe of his sneaker. "He said that her new heart valve had burst under too much pressure and she was bleeding internally."

Randy leaned down and kissed Adam softly. Adam's eyes fluttered and his body started to melt like butter. "If there was a life-or-death situation with Brielle, you would know it. You would feel it in here." He touched Adam's chest.

Adam's heart fluttered and his eyes slid closed. "I just want to be able to hold her and comfort her."

"That you will." Randy assured him. "Now, climb in. We have a plane to catch."


	31. Brielle's Harsh Words

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Mpreg, Non-Con, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

A few hours later, Adam stood outside of the hospital room where his baby was recuperating. The doctor had told him that she was awake and he could head in to see her whenever he liked, but for now, he was content to stand outside and stare. Randy, who had not left his side for the entire ordeal, clutched his hand and squeezed it as he stared into the tiny window as well. It was time for the moment of truth. It was time to see how much damage Chris had caused.

Carefully, Randy led him into the room and over to the bed. After he all but forced the blond into one of the many chairs beside the bed, he assured him that he would be just outside if Adam needed him. Adam stared at him for a moment, before he nodded weakly. He knew that he needed to do this on his own. Brielle had never seen Randy and after all of the new faces she had seen in such a short amount of time, he could overwhelm and scare her.

Slowly, Adam reached forward and took Brielle's hand. "Brielle? Brielle, sweetheart, it's Mommy. Can you let Mommy know that you're awake?" Tenderly, he stroked the back of her tiny hand. "Brielle? Brie-Brie?"

Brielle's sweet eyes fluttered and Adam flinched when he saw the pain that swirled within them. "Mommy?" She muttered that one word so weakly, it shattered Adam's heart.

Tears trickled down his cheeks and he nodded hurriedly, blond hair bouncing on his shoulders. "Yeah, baby. It's me. It's Mommy." He leaned forward, brushing the soft hair away from her face.

"Where's Daddy?" The honest confusion in her voice made his hand freeze mid-swipe. It trembled and fell to the pillow beside her head. His hazel eyes shone in disbelief.

Before, Brielle had never much cared for the existence of her father. Adam could have told her that she had been hatched and she would have accepted it as the truth, because Adam was all that she had ever known. Adam was _safe_. Now, it was like a cold slap across the face to hear her _ask_ for him as if he had been there from the start. And it was only then that he noticed the dark purpling bruise on her ivory cheek.

Frantic now, he forced her head to the side so that he could look at it more clearly. "Did _he_ do this to you?"

"What?" Brielle could sense his fear and had started to become afraid as well.

"This!" He waved at her swollen, purple cheek. "Did that _bastard_ hit you?"

"No! Daddy would never hurt me! Daddy loves me more than Mommy does!" Brielle screamed, before she drew the covers tight around her and turned away from Adam. "I want my Daddy."

Adam's eyes widened. The vice that held his heart twisted and clenched. How could this be happening? "Baby, no. No, sweetheart, no. I didn't mean to yell. I'm sorry. Just _please_, baby girl. I love you _so_ much."

"No you don't!" Brielle screamed.

Adam took a moment to calm himself. It wouldn't do to make himself into even more of a villain in her eyes. Her words wounded him in a way that he couldn't explain. She was his baby. The first (and only) child that he expected to have. How could she think that he didn't love her? After all that he had done for her, after all that he had _sacrificed _for her, it killed him to think that Chris would throw in such a low-blow. But then, what more could he expect?

Adam closed his eyes and carefully removed the stuffed teddy bear that he had brought from the hospital. It was almost identical to the one that she had now, but this was the one she had left behind in the states. "What is that?"

Adam smiled ruefully. "It's the reason I came, baby girl. You see, I've been looking all over for you so that I could bring you home and we could be happy… and I held on to this bear to remember how happy we were."

"Is that Mr. Fluffykins?" Brielle asked skeptically. Adam's smiled widened a little. At least she remembered the name of the bear. That was a decent start.

"The one and only." He answered. "And Mr. Fluffykins has missed you terribly. And I know for a fact that you need him more than I do." Without meaning to, he let a tear fall as he tucked the bear under her arm.

Brielle bit down on the inside of her mouth. "Where did they take Daddy?"

Adam sniffled, realizing with a heavy heart that not even her favorite bear could fix this. "I don't know, baby."

Brielle lifted her arm and threw the teddy bear down onto the floor. It bounced with a horrific _clack_ and rolled under the bed. "I'm tired. I want to sleep now."

"Okay, sweetie." He leaned over to kiss her cheek, hoping she would allow him that much. But she rolled over onto her stomach and hid her face from view. "I love you, baby." There was no answer.

Adam, heartbroken, had to leave before matters became too out of hand. The tears came down in rivers now and he could not stop them, no matter how hard he tried. His daughter thought he was a monster. After all that that bastard had done to her, _Adam_ was the monster. As soon as the door closed behind him, he threw himself into Randy's arms and sobbed. Why had life dealt him such a shitty hand?

Randy comforted him as best he could, but there was little that could be done to console the brokenhearted man. Randy understood what it meant to be in his situation, but he had never been on the receiving end of such a brutal letdown from a child. His current state of disbelief and anguish was understandable. And if all he could do was stand there and hold him as he cried, then that was what he would do. When it came to Adam, he would do _anything_.


	32. A Change of Heart

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle and Lilly.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Mpreg, Non-Con, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

The next time that Hunter awoke, Mark and Lilly were in the room. Lilly sat on her father's knee, her stuffed dolly tucked safely away in her little arms. Mark fussed over her hair worriedly. Soon, he knew that he would have to tell her that Hunter was on life-support and after – how many months had it been now – it didn't look like he would survive. But Lilly had faith in Hunter, so Mark took her in to visit him every afternoon at one o' clock.

Lilly suckled on her candy, kicking her little feet back and forth as she watched Hunter stir. It wasn't unusual for him to move around. Mark said it was involuntary movement. Lilly didn't understand a word of it, but she had nodded anyhow. Her father was very smart, after all. He would know about this kind of stuff. But when he turned his head to the side, his hazel eyes fixed on her, she knew that this wasn't an 'involuntary movement'.

"Daddy!" She took hold of Mark's hand, excitement on her little face as she jabbed her thumb in the direction of Hunter's frail body. "Look! He's awake!"

"Sweetie, I know that that's what you want to see, but he's very sick. It's just another involuntary movement." He stroked her hair softly. "Now, come back here before you choke on your candy."

"No, Daddy! Look!" Lilly started to jump up and down, careful not to choke on her candy. Mark tried to reach for her, but Lilly slid onto Hunter's bed. Hunter's hazel eyes flickered down to her.

"Lilly, be careful! You don't want to accidentally hurt him, baby!" Mark exclaimed, worried for his baby and for his husband. "Come back here _now_."

Hunter took this chance to carefully remove his oxygen mask. "It's okay, Mark. I don't mind her being on the bed." He wheezed out. Without the mask, he was immediately breathless and woozy.

Now Mark could see what he had been blind to before. "Hunter!" Immediately, he was out of his seat and at Hunter's side. "Don't take the mask off, Hunt. Just relax. I'll call in the doctor, and -,"

Hunter cut him off. "No. Not yet. I want you… I want you to tell me about what happened to that little bastard. I want you to tell me what happened to Chris Jericho."

Mark was a bit surprised by the use of vulgar language in front of their precious flower, but he brushed it aside. Carefully, he slid the oxygen mask back onto his husband's face. He started in on the story about what had happened to Chris Jericho. He claimed that he had taken Brielle to Canada shortly after her life-saving operation and had nearly killed her. Hunter's eyes widened and he was thankful that Lilly didn't understand any of this.

Adam had left for Canada to be with Brielle and that was the last that he had heard of Adam for the week. Hunter swallowed hard and Mark decided to end the story there, but not before adding that Chris had been arrested for his crimes. He didn't want to be kicked out for getting Hunter too worked up. Not when he had waited forever for this moment that he feared would ever come. He was just so thankful to be able to see Hunter's eyes once more.

"I have to call the doctor in now, baby. I'm sure that she'll be ecstatic when she finds out that you pulled through." Mark said with a small smile. "How do you feel?"

"I feel like a truck ran me over and my shoulder burns like hellfire, but other than that, I feel _amazing_." Hunter chuckled dryly, before he slid the mask back on.

"Well, I don't want you to worry. As soon as your medically cleared, you'll come home with us and I assure you, Lilly is the cutest nurse _ever_." Mark turned to her with a small smile. "Isn't that right, flower?"

Lilly beamed at her two parents. She nodded enthusiastically, her blonde curls bouncing on her shoulders. "That's right, Daddy!" And then, she slid off of the bed and walked over to the chair that they had sat in earlier.

"What are you doing, baby?" Mark asked.

"I brought a present for you, Mommy." Lilly said. She took her dolly and placed it on Hunter's chest.

Hunter removed the mask and picked up the dolly carefully. "You didn't have to do this, flower. This is your special dolly from Aunt Stephanie." He said.

But Lilly insisted. "I want you to have it, though. So you won't be lonely." Lilly beamed.

She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Thank you, baby."

Mark lifted her into his arms. "You're welcome, Mommy."

Mark looked out into the hallway. The doctor came down the hall and was about to come inside. "The doctor is here, Hunter. I'm gonna take Lilly down to the cafeteria and we'll be back in a little while, okay?"

He nodded. "Okay. Be safe."

Before all of this, Mark would have laughed and asked what was the worst that could have happened. But now, he only smiled and assured his husband that no harm would come to them in their short journey downstairs. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hunter clutch the dolly to his chest. Finally, his husband was awake and was going to make a full recovery. And to think, he would have lost hope had it not been for one very special little princess.

* * *

It had been one week since the birth of little Doan and his parents couldn't have been more excited. After three days in the emergency care unit, they were able to take the baby home to the little apartment that they shared. John was reluctant to leave his side. Mike didn't blame him. While it hadn't been too difficult of a birth, there had been a few complications post-birth that had had him fearful for the pretty ravenette's life.

Mike stood in the doorway, a small smile on his face as he watched the scene unfold. John shook little baby noisemakers outside of the crib, watching as Doan's eyes lit with curious wonder. He reached out for them, his little fingers curling reflexively into a fat fist. And when his arm would swing out toward the toy, he would look at it in fearful confusion. Which would be followed by the cutest rain of baby laughter that Mike had ever heard.

Mike loved his little family. If he were to be honest, he had always wanted to have a family with John. But John had always been reluctant. He was afraid that his past life on the streets would come back to haunt them somehow. And no matter how many times Mike tried to convince him that he didn't care how John had lived his life before, that what mattered was the here and the now, John sometimes had a hard time believing him.

"He's beautiful." John whispered after a moment of reverent silence. All noise had ceased and the baby had fell into a serene slumber. "I just… I still can't believe that he's ours."

"Well, you can believe it, Johnny. You're safe and sound and so is Doan. Nobody will take him away from you, from us." Mike assured him softly. He set a hand on the other man's shoulder.

"How can you be so sure? I don't… I don't deserve…" He looked down at the baby worriedly. "I don't deserve to have something as beautiful as him. You wouldn't lie to me about this, would you?"

Mike's eyes widened. Hurriedly, he shook his head, taking John's face in his hands. "No, baby. Never. You know that I could _never_ lie to you. I only wish that you would trust me enough to tell me what has made you so untrusting."

John sniffled weakly, his eyes red-rimmed as tears shimmered within them. "Do you honestly want to know?"

"Yeah." Mike said, staring pointedly into the other man's chocolate eyes. "It will help you heal, baby."

"I was attacked at the dance club a few years back. It was before we met. I suppose all dancers are attacked in some way or another in their career, but this… it was brutal. When Hunter and Mark finally found me, I had almost bled to death. My attacker had taken it upon himself to carve his initials onto the back of my neck as well.

"They asked me if I wanted to file a police report. They had his initials and they had the room, which was practically destroyed and coated in my blood. But I turned them down. I didn't want to relive the whole mess in court. Besides, like Adam's case, men with money know how to make problems like us disappear.

"It was only after I had turned down the rape kit that I discovered that I was pregnant by the bastard. I wasn't ready to be a father, but at the same time, I knew that I didn't want to terminate the pregnancy. I had planned to give the baby up for adoption, but before I could find a family, I miscarried. And now, I've been given a second chance, and…"

Mike immediately took John into his arms and allowed the ravenette to sob into his chest. How someone could do something so brutal to someone as precious as John was beyond him. But, at the same time, it felt as if the divide between them had become somewhat smaller now that he knew the truth. And as he held the crying beauty, he promised himself that he would never let anyone hurt John again.

* * *

The nurse smiled down at the sweet little baby on the bed. Brielle offered a weak smile in return. She couldn't help but still think about her Mommy's earlier visit. "Nurse lady?"

"What is it, sweetie?" The nurse asked kindly as she checked the child's vitals. All seemed to be well within normal parameters. "Do you feel okay?"

"I feel fine." Brielle said. "I want my Mr. Fluffykins bear, but he fell under the bed. Can you get him for me?" She asked, batting her eyelashes sweetly. The nurse nodded.

She reached under the bed and retrieved the bear, tucking it safely under one of Brielle's tiny arms. "There you are. He's safe and sound. Is there anything else that I can do for you, sweetie?"

Brielle was silent for a moment, before she nodded. "Can you call my Mommy for me? I want to see him."

The nurse smiled and nodded, thankful that the child was finally speaking for a change. "Of course."


	33. Reunited

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Abuse, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

Once he had calmed Adam down somewhat, he led Adam back to the hotel. The blond was absolutely destroyed over the fact that Brielle had dismissed him so cruelly. It was hard to think that a little child's words could break a man's heart like that. But he didn't want to dwell on that. If he allowed Adam to see that it bothered him, then it would continue to weigh down Adam's mind. And Adam needed to be at one-hundred percent for his baby. She was all that he had in this cruel, heartless world. And he needed her to anchor him and keep him sane.

He helped the sweet blond into the bed and drew the blankets up to his chin. The blond stirred momentarily, but then he settled down. Randy leaned down and brushed a kiss over his forehead, brushing the soft blond tendrils away from his face. He couldn't believe that he had been so blessed as to have someone like Adam come into his life. But he knew that it was a privilege he couldn't take advantage of. He had one chance at this. If he screwed himself over, he would have nobody to blame but himself. He prayed that it would never make it that far.

After Adam had settled down and he was certain that he wouldn't wake anytime soon, Randy slid off of the other side of the bed and made his way over to the window. It overlooked the busy street below, and across street, he could make out the blurry form of the hospital. Brielle was in one of those rooms, and the only reason that she was in the hospital was her bastard of a father – who wasn't actually her father. Without wasting another minute, he reached into his pocket and took out his phone. He dialed the number that he had taken from Adam's phone.

_"Hello, you've reached the practice of Reso and Storm. To leave a message with your lawyer, please press 'one'. To arrange a meeting with your lawyer, please press 'two'. To locate our nearest office, please press 'three'…"_

Randy pressed one. He then clearly pronounced 'Jason Reso'. After a moment, the machine _beeped_ to let him know that it was ready to receive the message. "Hello, Mr. Reso. My name is Randy Orton. You don't know me, but trust me when I say that I know about you. Your client, Adam Copeland, is currently under my care. In fact, he's the reason that I called.

"You see, we need to talk. I'll admit that I haven't known Adam for very long. But in the time that I _have_ known him, I've gotten to know one thing. His daughter, Brielle, she means the world to him. Without her, he's nothing. And right about now, she's rotting in a hospital room because that bastard, Chris Jericho, messed her mind up so badly she doesn't even remember Adam loves her.

"That's the reason that we need to talk. You see, Mr. Reso, I sincerely hope that you have every intention of bringing your best A-game to court. This bastard doesn't deserve to get away with almost murdering his child. And Adam deserves to finally be happy. I would hope that you would agree. But I won't know that until I can finally meet with you face to face.

"So let me make this very clear. We'll meet tomorrow, twelve noon, inside of the hotel's café. _You don't have a choice in the matter_. This isn't your battle. Just like both Adam and I, you're a pawn. And the Queen is Brielle. She needs to be protected at all costs. Because, without her, it's practically game over." And, with that, he ended the call.

Turning back to the bed, he was thankful to find that Adam hadn't woken up. Silently, he stripped out of his clothes and changed into his pajamas. And then, he slid into the other side of the bed. Adam barely waited until he was fully underneath the covers before he threw himself at him, curling into him as if he were a human pillow. Not that Randy minded to terribly. He knew that Adam would be mortified if he knew the truth, but actually, he found it rather adorable. He closed his eyes and fell into an easy slumber.

Adam cracked an eye open, allowing a small smile to form. Even if his heart was still heavy from Brielle's callous words, he knew that he was lucky to have someone like Randy in his life. Randy genuinely cared about him, which wasn't something he could say about a lot of people. He wanted to take care of him and Brielle, and maybe Adam wasn't so adverse to the idea. After all, Randy's kindness had only been beneficial so far. And somehow, Adam knew that Randy wouldn't hurt him. Carefully, he leaned down and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you." He whispered, before he settled down, still wrapped up in Randy's slightly smaller body, and fell asleep as well.

* * *

When Adam awoke, it was to a call from the hospital. Slowly, he rolled over and took hold of the phone. "Hello?"

_"Mr. Copeland? This is Nurse White from the hospital. Your daughter, Brielle -,"_ but that was all she was able to get out.

Adam swallowed hard, suddenly alert. He sat bolt upright in bed, the blankets twisting around his middle like a cocoon. "What about Brielle? Is she okay? Did she have another relapse? Oh God, I'll be there as soon as I can!"

He could almost _hear_ the nurse smile. _"No, Mr. Copeland. It isn't like that at all. Brielle is quite fine; I can assure you of that. The surgery to repair the torn valve in her heart was a success. But that's not the reason that I called."_

Adam nodded, even though he knew full-well that she couldn't see it. "Well, then, if she's okay, then why did you call? Did… Did she ask for me?" There was a tiny shimmer of hope in his voice, but it was strangled.

_"Actually, she did ask for you."_ The nurse said with a smile. _"She said that you had been rather worried when you came in to see her, and she hadn't acted her best. She wanted me to call you and tell you that she would like to see you."_

Adam was out of bed in a flash, not even realizing that Randy was no longer there. "I'll be there in ten minutes!"

_"Mr. Copeland -,"_ but before she could say another word, Adam ended the call.

Excitement bubbled in his chest as he hurried to dress himself. He was unsuccessful at locating any of his clothes, so he borrowed some from Randy. It was unlikely that the COO would realize that they were missing, after all. He selected a pair of jeans and a baggy white button down. It wasn't the most formal, but Brielle had seen him in worse. After stuffing his feet into some sneakers, he raced over to the dresser and grabbed the keys to his rental car. The action knocked the note that was underneath to the floor.

Adam didn't notice. He was too excited to notice. Hurriedly, he bound out of the hotel room and slammed the door closed behind him. Racing like a madman down the hallway, he stopped the nearest elevator and hit the button for the ground floor. It was as if he had suddenly awakened to a brand new world, because for once, the sneezing brat in the corner didn't bother him, the man smoking a cigarette next to the 'No Smoking' sign wasn't worth his time… No, all that mattered was Brielle. And he would find her.

He tumbled out of the elevator almost before the doors had opened wide enough for him to exit and took off in a sprint toward the parking lot. Immediately, he was able to locate his car in the front of the lot. He unlocked the door and slid inside, igniting the engine. Reversing at a speed that should be considered illegal, he powered out of the parking lot and sped across the street, oblivious to speed limits. The need for Brielle had increased tenfold and he just needed to be with her, needed to hold her, needed to tell her _how much he loved her_.

He parked the car haphazardly, stuffed the keys into his pocket, and ran inside. He didn't even bother with the elevator this time. It would take too much time. Taking the stairs by two, he was finally able to reach the floor where Brielle was being held. As he raced past the nurse's desk, he recognized the nurse that had called him and offered her a soft smile. She brushed it off. Anything to reunite such a deserving family. Adam had never been more grateful to anyone in his life. When he finally reached her door, he slowed somewhat. For the first time, he felt doubt.

But now was no time to doubt himself, because Brielle had seen him out in the hallway. She offered him a weak little smile. "Mommy?"

"Yes, baby. I'm here now. Do you… Do you want me here?" He asked weakly. When she nodded, he could've sworn that he felt his heart burst with joy. "You don't know how happy I was to get that call from Nurse White."

Brielle looked down at her hands. She didn't seem to share his excitement. "Mommy?"

"What is it, doll?" He asked as he brushed the blonde curls away from her face.

"I'm sorry that I was bad. I mean, I would have had to do something _really_ bad for Mommy not to love me anymore, right?" Tears bubbled in her sweet blue eyes. "Is it because I let Daddy take me away?"

Adam's eyes widened. "No, sweetie, no. _None_ of that is your fault, do you hear me? You couldn't have stopped him. Nobody could. He did what he did because some people… some people need to work on their self-control, that's all. You weren't bad at all, doll."

"Then… you're not mad at me?" There was pure, honest relief in her eyes. It almost made Adam want to sob.

Adam shook his head. "No, baby. I don't think I could ever be mad at you after this. I'm just so happy that you're alive and safe. And even if I _was_ mad at you, that doesn't mean that I don't love you anymore."

"Do you love me, Mommy?" Brielle asked, her voice incredibly small.

"Of course, doll. I love you now, forever, and always." He leaned down and kissed her forehead, before he tickled her tummy gently.

Brielle giggled, carefully swatting at his hands with her own, smaller ones. "I love you too."

* * *

Randy arrived back at the hotel about a half-hour later. He tossed his keys onto the dresser and turned on the television, before he wandered into the bathroom to take a nice, hot shower. He just felt so _sore_. It had undoubtedly been a long week for both of them. But soon, it would all be over. After a talk with a somewhat reluctant Jay, he had discovered that the court case had been set for some time next week. He had also found out that Chris could be tried twice for his crimes. Once in Canada and once in America.

He had been excited when he found this out. And he couldn't wait to tell Adam. But… now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen Adam back when he had come in earlier. This was strange, because he had only been out for an hour or two, and Adam had been knocked out cold when he had left. So he wandered back into the bedroom and looked around. Some of his clothes were missing, along with Adam's chain necklace that Brie had given him for his birthday last year (Adam had been telling him about that one day).

"Adam…" he mumbled softly, but the only thing that heard was the silence. Where had Adam gone?


	34. I'm Sorry

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle. I also don't own the Disney stories.  
**Rated: **M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

"Mommy?" Brielle blinked her pretty eyes at him. Adam offered her a small smile and brushed the curls away from her face. "Would you tell me a story, Mommy?" She asked sweetly.

Adam leaned down and kissed the crown of her head. She giggled once more, her little feet flying through the air in short, choppy kicks. "What do you want the story to be about, doll?"

"Would you tell me about Beauty and the Beast? I like that story." Brielle smiled. "Oh, and Cinderella too? And Pocahontas? And Sleeping Beauty, and Tarzan, and Mulan, and -,"

"We have all of the time in the world, doll. I can tell you all of those stories and more. How about we start with Beauty and the Beast, huh? I know that you like that one the best." Adam returned the smile.

Brielle nodded. "Okay." But then, a shadow came over her face. "Can I ask you a question, Mommy? It's… It's about Daddy." There was a look of worry on her cute little face, and Adam tried to console her with a smile and a pat on the head.

"Sure, doll. Whatever you want to know. I promise that I'll do my best to answer it, okay?" Adam asked. When Brielle nodded, he started to twirl her blonde curls around his finger. "Okay. Ask away."

"Did you love Daddy?" Adam blinked dumbly. Reluctantly, he shook his head. He had promised himself that he would never lie to her and he didn't intend to start now. "Did he love me?" Adam nodded. "Then why did he take me away from you?"

Adam looked haunted. "Well, sweetheart… Your Daddy isn't really your Daddy. Your Daddy, the one who made you, is in heaven. But Chris _thinks_ that he's your Daddy. I never thought that he would hurt you and I will _never_ forgive myself for that. Do you understand?"

Brielle stared at him blankly. "So the Daddy that took me isn't really my Daddy?"

"That's right, baby. And I'm _so sorry_ that he scared you like that." Adam assured her.

"So, then, who _is_ my Daddy?" Brielle asked.

"His name was Wade Barrett. He was a bare-knuckle brawler, and shortly after I found out that I was going to have you, he received a fatal blow to the head and died. I still… I still have a picture of him in my wallet. Would you like to see him?" Brielle nodded.

Adam reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. He thumbed through the pictures, trying to remember where the one that he wanted was. He knew that it had been a long time since he had last seen it, mostly because he hadn't wanted to relive the painful memories, but at the same time, he knew that he would never throw it out. After a moment, he was able to locate it. It was hidden away behind the photo of Brielle that had been taken on her fourth birthday. She looked absolutely adorable with her blonde curls and innocent blue eyes.

He took the photo out and stared at it for a minute. He and Wade stood on a bridge overlooking tranquil water, which flowed from a nearby waterfall. Wade had his arm around his shoulders and both men had smiles on their faces. It was a beautiful picture. Adam estimated that it had been taken six months before Wade had died. It was before Brielle was even a glimmer of hope in either of their minds. Adam had been happy. It had been his first serious relationship and when he was with Wade, he never felt anything other than _safe_.

Almost reluctantly, he handed the photo over to Brielle. He knew that she wouldn't hurt it, at least not on purpose. But there was so much that she didn't know, so much that she was too young to understand. Brielle's eyes carefully scanned the photo. Her critical eye was almost comical, but he remained straight-faced. This was no laughing matter. Brielle wanted to know the truth. And he couldn't hide it from her any longer. As her chubby fingers scaled over the surface of the picture, she smiled softy.

"Daddy was real pretty. So was Mommy." Brielle smiled. "Daddy was really hairy, though." Both broke down into fits of laughter from that. Leave it to Brielle to break the tension with a crack like that.

"I used to joke with him that he didn't know what a razor was." Adam confessed. "He didn't like to shave. It took away from his brawler look." His look melted into one of fond sadness.

Brielle turned the picture from side to side. Her look of confusion had returned. "Why did he leave us, Mommy? Did he not want to be with us anymore?" She asked. There was a hint of sadness in her tone.

"No, baby. That's not it at all. Wade loved us both very much, even if he never met you. That was the reason that he continued to be a brawler. He had trained for it his entire life. It was good, fast money. He only died because of a mistake."

"Will you ever find someone else to love, Mommy? You seem so sad, all alone." Brielle said. Her eyes were innocent, but her words weren't. It was as if she could read his soul.

"I think that I already have." Adam confessed with a smile.

"Oh? Tell me about him." Brielle looked excited once more. The picture lay at the foot of the bed, forgotten.

"I thought that you wanted to hear a story? Beauty and the Beast, wasn't it?" Adam asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Tell me a story about this instead!" Brielle said, before she pouted. She knew that Adam couldn't resist the pout.

Finally, Adam relented. He started into the story about Randy, telling her about the 'wonderful man' who had been nothing but wonderful for the both of them. He was the reason that Adam had been able to keep the faith while he didn't know where Brielle was. He was the reason that he was able to smile, even when everything seemed dim with Brielle. And, he had an inkling that he had something to do with John finding out that he couldn't afford Brielle's operation and they had come together to give the money to him.

To her credit, even if he could tell that he was wearing her out, she listened intently. She seemed to really like Randy, too. And for the first time, he realized that Randy wasn't at the hotel room when he left. He wondered if something had happened to him and, in the back of his mind, he desperately hoped that he was okay. And he decided that, the next time that he saw him, he would tell him how much he meant to him. If Randy returned it, that would be wonderful. And if he didn't… well, that was an entirely different story.

Finally, Adam brought the story to an end. "And now, it's time for you to take a little bit of a nap. I have to go back to the hotel room now, but I promise that I'll be back tomorrow. Same time. Okay?"

Brielle nodded, her eyes sliding closed. "Okay. I love you Mommy. I'll see you tomorrow."

Adam swallowed hard. It felt wonderful to hear those words come out of her mouth. "I love you too, baby. Sleep tight."

Brielle smiled. "Don't let the bed-bugs bite."

* * *

Randy looked down at the floor, disturbed to find that his note had been crumpled into a ball and had fallen down onto the floor. What could have caused Adam to act like this? Was he upset that he had ordered a hotel room with only one bed? This seemed a little overdramatic, if that were the case. Randy bit down on the inside of his mouth, instantly worried. What if something bad had happened to the older man? His phone sat on the bedside table, so there was no way that he could contact him. What to do, what to do…

He started to walk around, searching for any indication of where Adam could have gone. Honestly, he hadn't meant to make Adam feel as if he was pressuring him into making a decision. In fact, the last thing that he wanted to do was make Adam uncomfortable. Deep down, he knew that what he felt in his heart was love. Love that he hadn't felt for anyone but Sam. She was the mother of his child, but he could see himself in the future, having children with Adam. But he had never wanted to push him into that corner.

Reaching down, he took hold of the note. The same words were written there, with no addition from Adam. _Gone to talk with Jay. There is some stuff that needs to be discussed about the court case. Will inform you of my findings when I come back. Love you._ He didn't know what there was about that letter that could cause Adam to run off like this, but what he _did_ know was that he wasn't ready to confront it. He needed to soul search… find out what he really wanted out of his relationship with Adam… and then confront it head on.

He turned the note over and wrote two words on the back. _I'm sorry_. Setting it on the dresser, he grabbed his keys and made his way back down to the parking lot.


	35. Fifty Cents

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Child Abuse, Non-Con, etc.

* * *

A little under a half-hour later, Adam arrived back at the hotel room. He scanned his key and waited for the red light to turn green, before he stuffed it into the back pocket of his jeans and twisted the knob. Upon entering, he was surprised to find that all of the lights were off inside. He knew that Randy hadn't been there when he had left, but it was several hours later and it seemed out-of-character for him to just disappear out of the blue. Nevertheless, he brushed it off. Convinced that Randy would show his face soon, he decided to take a shower.

He threw his clothes into the hamper and made his way into the en-suite bathroom, his mind lingering on how wonderfully the visit with Brielle had gone. Turning the shower on, he waited until the water was the perfect temperature before he slid under the spray. For a moment, he just allowed the water to wash over his body. It cleaned away all of his transgressions. It reminded him that Chris was somewhere behind bars and would never be able to hurt Adam and Brielle again. But just the idea of Chris brought back memories that never needed to be relived…

_Adam felt the excitement bubble in his veins like liquid fire. He couldn't believe it. He was pregnant. How was this even possible? Not that it mattered, or that he even cared about the science behind it. This, of course, was why he had come to work that afternoon with an obnoxious smile on his face. Jeff and JoMo had looked at him awkwardly, but didn't comment on it. They all had their lives outside of the business. Jeff had his on-and-off relationship with Phil and John had his latest tryst of the day._

_It was after their routine and Adam was the only one left in the locker room. Jeff had been reluctant to leave him behind, because some asshole had taken it upon himself to start terrorizing some of the dancers. At that point, the 'under the table' sex wasn't part of the deal, but Vince had started to consider it. He even had some of the dancers on board with it. But Jeff didn't like the idea. And he certainly didn't like the fact that Adam was Vince's next target. Adam was a fan favorite, and if Vince could get him on board, he would be rich._

_But Adam had turned down his offer for a ride home. Instead, he decided to take a shower. He stripped off his layers of leather and made his way to the shower stalls. The room was deserted and the lights were off. It was extremely likely that he was the last one left in the club. That didn't bother him too much. He was used to being on his own. Wade was in England for most of the year, earning money as a bare-knuckle brawler. It was only last month that he had come home, and that was when Adam had conceived._

_When the water was running, he slid under the spray and closed his eyes. The steam rising in the darkness was almost beautiful. His mind raced a mile a minute. He tried to think of the best way to tell Wade, but figured it would be better to wait until he came home two months later. It just wasn't the kind of conversation that you could have over the phone. He reached down and lathered soap between his two hands, before he started to clean his body. Humming off-tune, he didn't hear the door open or the click of the lock as it closed._

_"Well, well, well… what do we have here?" Adam nearly jumped out of his skin. That certainly wasn't the voice of any of the dancers, and this was an unauthorized area for the patrons. "A naked, sopping wet slut. Well, it looks like you did all of the hard work for me."_

_Adam tried to hide, but the door to the shower didn't have a lock on it and he was sure that you could see his naked body through the frosted glass. "Who are you? What do you want?"_

_"You're so slow, little bird. I would've thought that you'd be able to figure that out by now." The door slammed open and Adam wrapped his arms around his stomach, trying to protect his unborn baby. "I want you."_

_Adam shivered. The water had turned icy cold and his heart pounded a mile a minute. "Please, you don't have to do this. If you just walk away now, I won't tell anyone. I swear…"_

_The sadistic man smiled darkly and Adam knew that his plea had fallen on deaf ears. "Now, sugar, how many times do you think that I've heard that one before? I have no reason to believe you." _

_He slid into the shower stall and started to remove himself from his pants. The water beat down on him as well, making his clothes stick to his muscular frame. "No… Please, don't do this." Adam pleaded. "I'll do whatever you want. I swear it."_

_"What I want is for you to shut that pretty little mouth before I shut it for you." The monster hissed. When Adam fell silent, he smiled. "Good boy. I knew that you were a well-bred bitch when I saw you out there, but this… this is more than I could have hoped for."_

_Tears leaked down Adam's pretty face as the monster shoved him into a corner, closing off the flow of air, effectively strangling him._

_Without hesitation, he shoved all of the way into Adam's unprepared entrance. Adam's scream was muffled and breathless, and his face had stared to turn red from the strain. "You take it so well. I was wrong, earlier. You're not a bitch. You're a whore."_

_Adam's body went numb as the monster continued to pound him into the corner. He could barely breathe, and when he could, he knew better than to utter a sound. He couldn't take the chance that the man would become frustrated with him and seriously try to hurt him, because that would kill the baby. Tears silently leaked from his eyes as the monster continued to abuse his body. All he could think of was his beautiful, unborn child. The child could be hurt now, or worse, could be dead. And if that were the case, Adam would blame nobody but himself._

_And when he was finished, his seed leaking out of Adam's abused body, he pulled out and allowed Adam to fall to his knees, his body trembling with the need to flee, but being unable to do so. The monster's chuckle reverberated in the prison that was the shower stall. And then, the metallic clang of change bouncing off the shower stall and falling to the floor hit Adam's ears. He looked down, color stabbing his cheeks when he saw the two quarters in the bloody, soapy mess on the shower floor._

_"I've had better." Those were his three callous words. "Maybe next time I'll have to try your pretty little mouth…"_

_He reached out to stroke Adam's cheek, but Adam retaliated and tried to bite him._

_"Oh, now don't be so bitchy, princess. We're only getting started."_

Adam had to leave the shower. It was hard, when he was alone. Even with Randy around, the memories were still there. Sometimes, Adam wondered if they would ever leave. Immediately after the attack, he had done everything that he was supposed to do. He had contacted the authorities, who had told him to go to the hospital and get a rape kit. And, as humiliating as it was, he had done it. But the case had been thrown away for lack of evidence. But Adam knew the truth. _He_ had paid them off.

It was only later that Adam learned that his attackers name was Chris Jericho. In fact, it was shortly after the birth of his daughter, Brielle. Since Adam was not visibly pregnant at the time of the attack, it was almost understandable that Chris would think he was the father. And Adam was too afraid to tell him that he wasn't. If he was capable of such a brutal crime _without_ knowing about the baby, what would he do if he found out Brielle _wasn't_ his child? And so he had lied. He had lied to keep Brielle and himself safe.

"Randy?" Adam called as he came out of the shower. He held the towel around his waist with one hand, while the other combed back his unruly blond hair. But as he looked around, Randy was nowhere to be found.

And then, his eyes caught the letter on the corner of the dresser. He wondered why he wouldn't have seen that before, because it seemed to be in plain sight. But really, Adam's mind had been so preoccupied with other things; it was understandable that he would miss such a small slip of crumpled paper. Or was that just an excuse? He didn't know anymore. Without thinking, he grabbed the letter and read the two words written there: _I'm Sorry._ His heart sank in his chest as he contemplated the meaning of that note.

Immediately, he took out his phone and dialed the number of the only person he could think of to help him out of this mess: Jeff. It rang three times before he finally answered. _"Hello?"_

"Hi, Jeff. It's Adam." Wasn't that why Caller ID was invented? He mentally slapped himself. "Am I calling at a bad time?"

_"No. Not at all."_ Jeff's breathlessness and Phil's manic cursing, on the other hand, told a different story. _"What is it that you need?"_

"I need a favor. Randy, he… he _left_. As in, he left a note saying 'I'm Sorry' and just walked out. He's got me going out of my mind with worry. I don't know if he has his phone, but I doubt it. And even if he did, would he _want_ to talk with me? What do I do?"

Jeff sighed. Over the phone, Adam could hear him talking to his bedmate. _"It's about Randy. Apparently he left a note saying 'I'm Sorry' and Adam's worried because he can't contact him. Have you heard from him?"_

_"Ah, yes. Because Randy always staples his plans to his forehead for the entire world to see…"_ the hormonal man trailed off. The bed creaked and Adam guessed that he had just turned his back on Jeff.

_"C'mon, Phil. Be serious, okay? This is important to Adam, which means that it is important to me too."_

_"Yeah, well, I know a few other things that should be important to you as well." _Now, Adam _knew_ that he had interrupted something. _"He said that it was wrong to lay his heart out on the line like that. He should've known better and now he's been burned. Adam deserves better, so he's coming home."_

Jeff's eyes widened. He knew of the connection that Adam had formed with Randy and he didn't want to see that broken. _"When?"_

_"He's flight leaves at seven-thirty. So, I'd say about two hours."_

"Why the hell would he think that I don't want him?" Adam felt dizzy. He couldn't concentrate and he _certainly_ couldn't think of what he had done to make Randy think he didn't want him.

_"I don't know, baby boy. That's for you to find out. Phil here says that you have about two hours to find him before his plane starts to board, because we don't know what flight he's on. Best of luck, baby boy. You're gonna need it."_

Adam thanked him, before he ended the call. Quickly, he dressed and gathered his keys. He didn't have any time to waste if he wanted to find Randy in time…


	36. More Secrets

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Lilly.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

"Please, I need to see Brielle. Just let me see her. She must be so worried. I'm all that she has." Chris pleaded. There was a manic look in his eyes that couldn't be trusted. "And if not that, then just let me talk to her. One little call. You can even monitor it."

Ryback shook his head. "You already had your phone call, Jericho. We both remember how that turned out." This was true. Chris, not knowing who else to turn to, had called his father. His father had promptly hung up on him. "One call per customer."

"You don't understand. Brielle needs me. She needs her father." Chris pleaded. The handcuffs that were neatly secured around his wrists jingled with every movement. "And I can't be there for her unless I can have that phone call."

"You just don't know when to quit, do you? You raped Adam. We have the evidence to prove it. You paid off the investigator. We have the evidence to prove it. _And_ you kidnapped Brielle. We have evidence to prove that as well."

Chris chuckled blandly, but from the look in his eyes, both men knew that this act was old. "Why do you insist on calling her 'Brielle'? She's my daughter. We _both_ know that she's my daughter. I want you to say it to my face. Admit that you know that's the truth."

Ryback stared into his eyes. It was clear that the man had lost all sense of reality. "She's not your daughter, Chris. She never was. And the only thing that I'm going to tell you is that you just traumatized an innocent six-year-old that's never even seen your face."

"You're a liar!" Chris screamed in his face. How could he treat him like he was such a fool? He _knew_ that Brielle was his daughter. Adam had said so! "Brielle is my _baby_! Don't you _dare_ try and take her away from me! If you lay a hand on her, I'll kill you! I swear I will!"

An uncomfortable silence fell over them both as Chris realized what he had just said. He had just threatened to kill a federal officer. Undoubtedly, twenty years had just been added onto his sentence. "This interview is over." Ryback said.

Ryback rose out of his chair and slid it back to the table. There was no more to discuss. Chris was obviously extremely volatile, and as much as Ryback wanted to nail him with so many charges he couldn't tell up from down, he didn't want to risk his life. All that he had done would be in vain if he died before this could make it to trial. But there was another reason that he wanted, no, that he _needed_ to leave. Chris sickened him. And the more that came out of his mouth, the more he wanted to shut the bastard's mouth. Forever.

He walked out of the interrogation room and shuffled through the files. He had been sure to leave a very personal photo in there for Chris to stare at and mull over for a while. It was a photo of Adam and Wade, the same one that Adam had in his wallet. Ryback wanted Chris to know what he had taken away from Adam. That and he wanted to make him aware of whom the child's _real_ father was. It was obvious that the man was delusional, and maybe this would be what it took to crack into his shell.

Once Ryback stood on the other side of the one-sided glass, he accepted a cup of coffee from one of the other officers and watched. After several moments of hesitantly staring at the picture, Chris looked around lazily – almost as if someone would come in and stop him before he could carry out what it was that he wanted to do – and picked the picture up off of the table. A million different emotions flickered across his face. Finally, in a brutal blow of rage and frustration, he tore the picture to shreds and made it fly all around him.

_"You lie! All of you are liars! Bring that fucking bastard to me! Bring him here so that I can wring his neck! I want my daughter."_ And then he broke down into fits of sobs, cradling his head in his hands. _"I want my baby girl. Please, bring me Brielle."_

Ryback turned to one of the other officers. Her name was Kaitlin. "I need you to call the crisis center. Have them send down a doctor to examine Jericho. His sanity is a tightrope that's been worn a little too thin."

Kaitlin nodded. "What about the girl, sir? Does she need to be moved to protective custody?"

Ryback was silent for a moment, before he shook his head. "I don't think so." He filled her in on his earlier conversation with Jericho. "Based off of that, he'll spend the days leading up to the trial in solitary confinement."

"This case is really important to you, huh?" Kaitlin asked with a small smile.

"Bastards like Jericho need to learn that the law doesn't bend for anyone." He retorted.

"Are you sure that it isn't because -," he cut her off before she could finish.

"I'm sure." He bit off, before he started to nurse his coffee once more.

"Okay." Kaitlin squeaked out. She knew that she had crossed a line and didn't want to push any further. "I'll see to it that the crisis center is notified about Mr. Jericho's condition."

Kaitlin wandered off to do as she was told. Ryback turned back and stared into the one-sided glass, watching as Chris broke down for all of the officers to see. He pulled his handcuffs so tightly that they cut red lines into his wrists. Rising out of his chair, he took hold of it and tossed it, to the best of his ability, across the room. His hip bumped into the table and knocked over the glass of water there, which ruined the papers that Ryback had left for him to look over. Luckily, they were only copies.

Ryback nursed his coffee, staring at the man with contempt. He sucked in heaving breaths as he destroyed the room. And Ryback would let him continue to do so. Blow off some steam. All of the furniture could easily be replaced. But the valuable evidence that they gathered from this outburst couldn't be. If Chris could be this volatile on his own, Ryback could only imagine how he was in the bedroom with an unwilling partner. And Ryback would take every bit of evidence that he could obtain…

* * *

That same day, Hunter finally came home from the hospital. He was far from one-hundred percent, but the surgeon believed that he was ready to be taken care of by his normal physician. He would have to go to the doctor every morning for the first two months to have her change the wrappings on his gunshot wound, and after the first two months, it would drop down to twice a week. Luckily, the doctor's office was just down the street and Mark could take him there on his way to work. Life was almost back to normal.

Now, all three of them sat in the living room of their small house. Lilly had curled up on Hunter's lap, a big book of fairytales on her lap. It seemed to be much bigger than her tiny body. Mark sat off to the side, one arm carefully wrapped around Hunter's shoulders. Even if Hunter constantly assured him that he wouldn't hurt him, he still felt the need to be incredibly careful with him. Until the wound healed, he refused to have sex with him. The last thing they needed as an accidental pregnancy in the middle of all of this…

"Once upon a time, in a land far, far away…" Hunter started, brushing Lilly's soft blonde curls away from her tiny face. She kicked her little feet as she followed along with her tiny finger. "…there lived a lovely princess named Lilliana."

Lilly looked up at Hunter and met his eyes. She flashed him a childish smile. "That's my name, Mommy!" She giggled cutely, before she touched one of the pictures. "Pretty princess."

"Yes, pretty princess. Just like our beautiful Princess Lilliana." Hunter leaned forward and kissed the crown of her golden hair. "She had two daddies who loved her very, very much. Lilly was the happiest girl in the entire kingdom."

Mark leaned forward. "What's that word there, Lilly?" He asked.

Lilly squinted at the page. "It… It is… ha-hap-hapwiwy."

"Close. Instead of 'wah', think 'le' like 'Lilly'." Mark helped her.

Lilly blinked a few times, before she offered, "Ha-Happily."

Mark smiled. "Good job, sweetheart."

Hunter continued to read the story, gently tangling his fingers in her soft blonde hair. It just felt so nice to be able to hold her after so long. She was heavier than he remembered, and taller too. Her hair tumbled back over her shoulders and she could recite the alphabet and could count back and forth to ten. He hated that he had missed so much of her life. He would have loved to have been there to cheer her on, to catch her when she fell, and to congratulate her when she reached that milestone of being able to recite the alphabet or count to ten.

When the story was over, Lilly had fallen asleep. Her soft blond head rested on Hunter's chest, mere centimeters away from his bullet wound. There was a little bit of pain from the pressure of her head, but he couldn't say that he truly cared. When Mark realized that she had fallen asleep, he carefully took her into his arms and stood up. She didn't even stir. Her head lolled into the crook of his neck and he tucked an arm under her legs, making sure that she wouldn't fall over.

"I'll take her to her room and then we can go to bed, okay?" Mark tossed over his shoulder, even as he started to carry her into her bedroom. Hunter closed the book, his mind obviously elsewhere.

Hunter nodded, but when he realized that Mark couldn't see him, he said, "Okay."

Hunter made his way into the bedroom and slid the book onto the shelf. Quickly, he undressed and put on his pajamas. Climbing into bed, he waited for Mark to come back from their daughter's bedroom. When he did, he changed into his pajamas as well and climbed into bed beside him. He took Hunter into his arms and kissed the crown of his head. He was so afraid to release him, because if he knew that, if he did, he could go up in a puff of smoke and never come back.

"You don't know how scared I was. I was so scared that you'd never wake up. I had to lie to our flower and be brave for her, but…" it wasn't normal for Mark to be this emotional. He must've really been in a bad state. "Now, you're here."

Hunter offered a weak smile. While it was true that he was here, at least in the body, his mind continued to revert back to that night. All he could see was Mark fall, the bullet impaling his flesh, blood spraying everywhere… "I'm here now, with you."

Mark leaned down and kissed his forehead, so grateful to feel the warmth of _life_ in Hunter once again. "And you have to promise me now that you'll do whatever is in your power to make sure that you'll never leave us. Lilly needs _both_ of us."

Hunter nodded. "I promise." And then, "I love you." He leaned up and brushed his lips softy against Mark's, before he cuddled down and started to drift off to sleep.

Mark stared down at him fondly, unable to resist a smile of his own. "I love you too."

* * *

Adam had checked with every local airport. There was only one within a hundred-mile radius that had an outgoing flight to their home state. By the time that Adam had obtained the information, the flight departure had drawn a half hour nearer. Breaking every traffic law ever written, he somehow managed to make a forty-five minute drive in twenty minutes. With a little over an hour left before Randy's flight left, he figured it was plenty of time. And it just added to his luck that he found Randy within five minutes of his arrival.

The slightly shorter man sat on one of the bothersome plastic blue chairs, a travel brochure in his hand. It was obvious that it didn't truly have his attention, however. He thumbed through the pages disinterestedly. There were discounts on trips to the Caribbean and the Bahamas, as well as coupons for four star hotels. When he had finished looking through it, he tossed it aside. _Maybe someday_… When he turned back to watch the other travelers log their items, he came face-to-face with Adam.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Adam? You nearly gave me a heart attack!" Randy gasped. He put his hand over his heart and tried to regulate his breathing, as if to show his point.

"I could ask the same of you." Adam hissed. He wanted to make it as clear as possible that he was pissed off. "How could you just leave me like that? Just when I start to realize that…"

Randy blinked, Adam's confusion and embarrassment not sinking beneath his protective layer of self-pity. "How could I not realize what, Adam? That I was blind? That you never loved me? That I was only fooling myself?"

"You're such an idiot." Adam chastised him gently, before he leaned forward and smashed their lips together in a bruising kiss. "You're not the fool. I am. Or maybe we both are. I was too blind to see the love there and you refused to believe it."

Randy smiled weakly, unable to believe that this wasn't some kind of dream. "Guess we were kinda made for each other, huh?"

Adam returned the smile, knotting his hands in Randy's shirt. "Guess so."

Randy leaned forward, this time taking the initiative to kiss Adam. Adam moaned into the kiss, fisting Randy's shirt tighter as he allowed himself to be swept away by the sensation. Pleasure rolled down his spine in waves and he could feel the first hints of arousal stir. And, to be honest, he couldn't think of anyone he would trust more to take him then Randy. He knew that, if he handed himself over to Randy, then Randy wouldn't break him. Randy would never betray that trust.

"I want you to take me back to the hotel, Randy." And then, Adam leaned forward, whispering the last part in his new boyfriend's ear. "And I want you to make love to me."

The dark blush that stained Randy's cheeks made Adam chuckle. The COO nodded, before he whispered one word in return, "Okay."


	37. The First Time

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle and Lilly.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Violence, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

There were no words that were appropriate to describe how much either man wanted this. As soon as Randy pulled back into the hotel parking lot, he cut the engine, walked around to the other side of the car, and opened the door for his new _boyfriend_. That one word made his heart flutter uncontrollably and made him feel like a school girl that had just experienced love for the first time. And maybe that was true. Maybe this was love in its truest, purest form, and he had been too blind to see it before.

Carefully, he took Adam into his arms and carried him bridal style. A dark blush fanned over the blond's cheeks and he continuously mumbled that 'he could walk', but Randy didn't listen to him. So Adam turned and buried his face in the crook of Randy's neck. He wasn't used to such blatant displays of affection, because the only display of affection that he was used to was usually connected with violence. This felt… off. But that didn't mean that this didn't feel nice. And he realized, with a small smile, that he could become used to this.

Randy carried him like that all the way to their bedroom, pausing only to unlock the door. Adam marveled at the way the younger man could so easily balance him with one arm. He was so strong. Dependable, even. And soon, he would be Adam's. He would own every part of Adam in a way that Adam didn't mind. Randy carried him inside, shutting the door with a soft_ click_ behind him. Not wanting to waste any more time, not wanting to remember how many months had been wasted when he was blind, he tenderly set Adam down on the bed.

"Are you sure that you want to do this, Adam? I don't want to back you into a corner that you'll regret later." Randy promised sincerely. Deep inside, he was worried that Adam would change his mind about all this. He wanted Adam so very badly.

Adam climbed onto all fours, slowly making his way to the end of the bed in an almost predatory manner. "I'm sure that this is what I want, Randy." He took hold of the front of Randy's button-down, casually popping buttons this way and that.

"I don't want to hurt you." Randy confessed softly. Adam met his eyes for a moment, before he returned to his task of removing Randy's shirt. "I don't want to betray the trust that you've put in me. It would kill me."

Adam had already started to work on Randy's belt. With a crack of worn leather, it fell to the floor, useless. Adam stared down at it and licked his lips. _Maybe later…_ "It's not easy to win my trust, but you have. I don't think you'd take advantage of that."

Randy sighed. "I wouldn't try to. But, honestly Adam, I think you have way too much trust it me." He ran a hand over his face, doing nothing to stop Adam's wandering hands from unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I think that we've already established that. You won't hurt me. I promise. I may look real breakable, but trust me when I say that, when I'm hurt, I know how to _bite_." He flashed a charismatic smile, before he stripped him of his jeans and underwear.

Before Randy could even truly fathom what had happened, Adam was naked as well. This time on his knees, he took Randy's face in his hands and kissed him softly. This seemed to be the only persuasion that Randy needed. Adding a little bit more pressure into the kiss, he pushed Adam to lay on his back, situating his legs so that his knees wouldn't break under the pressure. Adam moaned as a heavy, but not uncomfortable, weight settled down between his legs. They fit together so perfectly.

Randy was the first to break the kiss. Breathlessly, Adam could only watch as Randy molded his lips to every inch of visible skin that he could find from just beneath his ear to the junction between his neck and his shoulder. It only took him a few seconds to find Adam's sweet spot, located squarely in the middle of the two. Adam's body lurched forward, his dripping manhood brushing against Randy's stomach obscenely. Randy continued to work at the spot, tenderly laving his tongue over it, loving the sounds that Adam was producing.

"You like that, do you baby?" Randy asked, his face mere centimeters away from Adam's neck. Cool air blew onto the site and Adam shivered, trying not to lose all sense of self-control and cum then and there.

"Fuck yeah…" Adam moaned, barely able to control his shiver. Randy's hands roamed over the flat planes of Adam's body, memorizing every crevice for future use. "Mmm… Randy…"

"What is it, baby?" Randy asked softly. He continued to gently massage Adam's body, occasionally suckling as the tender spot on his neck. Adam bucked into his body, pre-cum dribbling over his chest.

"Need you…" Adam hissed, arms wrapping around Randy's neck and drawing him down so that they were impossibly close, so close that it was impossible to tell one body from the next.

"Where do you want me, Addy? Just say the word and I'll do whatever you want. I'm at your service." Randy muttered into Adam's soft, creamy skin. He trailed his hands over Adam's body, ghosting over Adam's leaking erection.

"_There…"_ Adam gasped out, his eyes rolling back into his head. "There… There… Want you _there_…" the mantra seemed to never end. Randy smirked, running his hands over the insides of Adam's thighs, studiously ignoring where Adam wanted him most.

"There?" He asked. Adam shook his head breathlessly. "How about there?" He touched the inside of Adam's knee. Adam shook his head, but did arch his back and let out a little moan. "You're gonna have to be a little bit more specific, baby."

"I want you… I want your hand…" with a trembling hand, he took hold of Randy's wrist and put his hand around his leaking cock. "I want you to… jerk me off." From the look on his face, that had taken an immense amount of effort.

"Is that so? Well, why didn't you say so earlier?" Randy smirked. It only magnified when Adam glared up at him from underneath his long, coal lashes. "I'd be more than happy to do that for you."

He twisted his wrist around and gave one hard jerk to Adam's cock, grinning as Adam writhed under his careful ministrations. He started a smooth, but ferocious pace. With one hand, he held Adam's hips down, and with the other, he drew Adam closer and closer to completion. Drawing his nail over the purpling head, the grin turned almost masochistic as Adam whined and tried, failing, to buck his hips. Curses fell from his delectable lips before, finally, a warning that he was close, so close, came.

Seconds later, thick ropes of white coated Randy's hand. Some pooled onto Adam's belly, and the rest of it coated his nether regions. Randy tasted some of the essence that had splattered onto his hand. Adam moaned, a dark flush staining his creamy alabaster cheeks. Randy scooped up some more of Adam's essence and, with his other hand, gently pried Adam's legs apart. He didn't know when the last time Adam had done this for pleasure had been, and he was determined not to hurt him.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He repeated out loud. "And I want you to know that you can tell me to stop at any time. Okay?"

Adam smiled at him. His eyes were filled with nothing but trust, love, and admiration. "I know that you won't hurt me."

Randy touched one finger to Adam's entrance. It slid in easily, sinking in all the way to the knuckle. Adam moaned, all sense of reality gone as Randy twisted the finger around, trying to make sure that he was nice and slick before he tried another finger. The second one slid in just as easily. With one sharp turn to the wrist, both brushed against his prostate and for the second time, Adam saw stars. He was so enthralled by the pleasure that he didn't even feel the third finger slide in and start to stretch him.

Randy slid the fingers out. "Are you ready? Because if you think that you need more prep, I can…"

Adam touched a finger to his lips, before he leaned forward and connected their mouths in a soft, tender kiss. "I'm ready."

He didn't need any more permission. He took some of the lotion off of the bedside table and used it as lube, before he lined himself up with Adam's entrance. Leaning down, he connected their lips once more as he slid inside. Adam was tight, tighter than he could have ever hoped he would be. And he was so painfully receptive. Every time Randy slid in, Adam's channel would clench around him and he would have to stop, breathe, and remind himself that this couldn't… no, this wouldn't… end so soon.

He started out with slow, measured strokes. His hands found the crevices that they had sought out earlier and stroked them lovingly. And his mouth immediately found the pleasure spot on Adam's neck and started to suckle. Adam trembled with pleasure, his channel clenching down on Randy's hot cock. And after that, Randy couldn't take it anymore. With one deep thrust, his strokes started to become faster, more erratic, all in search of that one spot that would make Adam see stars…

And then he found it. Adam screamed, but it was choked off by Randy's lips on his. Randy immediately started to work his hand over Adam's length again, doing whatever was within his power to make Adam cum. And it didn't take long. Within minutes, Adam was screaming his release into Randy's mouth. His second orgasm coated Randy's hand and both of their stomachs, and when he clenched down on Randy's cock, he finished off inside of him.

Carefully, Randy pulled out of Adam and fell onto his back, breathless. With what little energy he could muster, he slung an arm around Adam's shoulders and pulled him into his chest. "That was… amazing."

"Yes, it was." Adam breathed. Weakly, he traced a finger over the crevices of Randy's muscles. "I told you you wouldn't hurt me."

"I'm just glad that I was able to live up to your expectations." Adam giggled sweetly, before he buried his face in Randy's shoulder. "I love you, Adam. And as long as you're with me, I promise, nobody will ever hurt you again."

"I love you too." Adam promised as he drifted off to sleep, safe in the knowledge that Randy would always keep his promises.


	38. The Trial (A)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anyone, other than Brielle and Lilly.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Violence, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

**Two Weeks Later**

"Are you sure that you want to do this, Adam? Nobody would blame you if you didn't." Randy watched as his love dressed himself in a handsome white suit, fixing his hair for what had to be the hundredth time. He looked nervous and uncomfortable.

But Adam shook his head. He smiled wryly and fixed his tie. "I would blame myself. I have to see to it that this bastard is behind bars. If I'm not there, the trial could be tainted somehow. I can't let Chris off a second time."

Randy nodded. He understood that, he did. But he didn't want Adam to become so submerged that he forgot that that life was behind him, that Chris couldn't hurt him anymore. "Trust me, baby. The one thing that _won't_ happen is Chris walking out of there a free man."

For the first time, Adam showed his true colors. His face was one of insecurity. "How can you be so sure?" He asked. Tears bubbled in his hazel eyes. "How can you be so sure, when he's already done it once?"

"I probably shouldn't tell you this, but you're so upset…" Randy rose off of the bed and wrapped his arms around Adam's waist, sinking his chin into Adam's shoulder. "You know Jay, as in Jay Reso, you're lawyer?" A nod. "He was the original lawyer assigned to your case."

Adam blinked. The confused look on his face was so utterly adorable, Randy couldn't resist a small smile. "What do you mean, he was the original lawyer? Of course he was. I went to him myself!" The confusion only mounted when Randy smiled and ruffled his hair.

"Not then, Adam. He was the original lawyer assigned to your case when Chris first attacked you. He was the prosecutor. And he told me, the week before the trial, that Chris paid off the judge. That's why your case never went to court."

Adam shook his head, all of this so much to take in at once. So Jay had followed his case all of that time? But how did he even remember that it was him? "Not enough evidence. Bullshit." And then, "But how did he know that it was me?""

Randy stared into Adam's hazel eyes, smiling sweetly. "Tell me the man that could forget that beautiful face and I'd call him crazy. Because I know, ever since you gave me that lap dance at the club, that I've _never_ forgotten you."

Adam flushed and looked down, embarrassed and enthralled all at the same time. He didn't understand how Randy could be so forward, and yet oddly romantic, at the same time. Slowly, Randy's calloused hands traveled up from Adam's waist and adjusted his tie so that it finally sat straight over the buttons of his crisp button-down. He pulled the suit jacket down and smoothed out all of the creases, smiling all the while. Even dressed for court, Adam looked absolutely radiant.

Randy didn't look too bad himself. Dressed in a black suit, which complimented the white suit that Adam wore, he had done his best to look suave and… at least somewhat calm at the same time. Truth be told, he was far from calm. In fact, he was nervous as hell. What if it didn't turn out in Adam's favor? Not that he doubted it would. He had no doubt that the court, the jury, and the judge would be able to see what the first judge couldn't. The streets weren't safe until Chris was off of them and behind bars.

But he kept his poker face like a mask. He loved Adam and had been a fool not to realize it before. There was no way that he would jeopardize that by leaning on Adam when Adam was the one who needed that crutch, that support system. He would never allow Adam to be in need and not be there to support him. It simply wasn't fair to the blond. Adam deserved everything, everything that Randy had to offer. And if he held anything from Adam, then he could lose him. And he couldn't lose anyone else.

"Are you ready?" Randy asked, staring into Adam's hazel eyes. "There's still time to change your mind. There's always time to back down." But, even as he said it, he knew that Adam wouldn't listen.

Adam shook his head. "I don't back down from anyone. I like to look a challenge in the eye. And that's all that Chris is to me anymore. He's a challenge and I'm about to put an end to him. I want to end that suffering once and for all."

"You're so brave, Adam. I'm very proud of you." Randy smiled, tilting Adam's head down and pressing their lips together in a soft kiss. "Are you ready to do this?" He asked, taking hold of Adam's hand and squeezing it.

Adam sighed, burying his head in Randy's chest, if only to waste another minute. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be, I suppose."

"Then let's get this over with." Randy squeezed Adam's hand. "And after that, we have forever, okay? So there's no need to dwell on right now. It'll be over before you know it."

Adam looked at him skeptically, but nodded nonetheless. "If you say so."

Still holding onto Adam's hand, Randy grabbed the keys to his rental car and led him to the door. He allowed his eyes to rake over the room once more, not able to shake the feeling that he had forgotten something, before he brushed it off and pulled Adam out of the door behind him. Adam wasn't talking, his eyes focused on the floor. Randy knew better than to disturb him while he was like this. He was in his own little world, and Randy was along for the ride. But he wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

"It's time for your trial, Jericho. Are you ready to face the music?" Ryback smirked as he watched the older man squirm within his cell. He looked terribly uncomfortable, and that was good. "Or do you not quite feel up to it today?"

Chris looked up at him with narrow eyes. His face was gaunt and he looked queasy, like he was about to lose his lunch on Ryback's shoes. "You know what I want. Give me Brielle."

"You know what? Just because I like you _so damn much_, I'll clue you in on a little secret. Man to man. Brielle doesn't want you. Brielle doesn't love you. In fact, Brielle is _scared_ of you."

Chris trembled as the words washed over him. "You're lying. How dare you even say her name! You're filthy! You don't deserve to say it!" And then, he spit at the gargantuan man.

Ryback wasn't in the mood for any more words. He marched over to Chris and unlocked the chains that bound him to the wall, before he lifted the smaller man with an ease that was almost frightening. Chris, however, remained absolutely stoic. A babbling mantra fell from his lips about how all of this was some sick, perverse dream and when he awoke, Brielle would be with him. Brielle was his angel. She had been there for him when he needed her, and now, he would be there for her. If only this brute could understand that!

Ryback certainly didn't hold back as he dragged the convict down the halls of the precinct, showing him in his truest form to all of the officers there. He was lower than dirt. What he had done to Adam was unforgivable, and if he wasn't punished to the fullest extent of the law, then the law had failed. Ryback had done his homework. He knew that Chris had paid off the judge. He knew that the law wasn't always perfect. But this time, it would be. That family would be safe from Chris. Or he would turn in his badge.

Tossing him rather haphazardly in the direction of the bailiff, he climbed into the front of the police car. He was only thankful that he wouldn't have to drive. If he had to drive, he couldn't guarantee the safe arrival of their star dumbass. He looked into the backseat of the police cruiser, where Chris sat, his hands handcuffed behind his back and his mouth sealed in a tight frown. When the bailiff (a young woman in her mid-thirties) tried to reach over him for a package, he nearly bit her. She slapped him hard and took her box.

"That man is a fucking maniac. Are you sure he's not going to plead for insanity?" She asked. From the look in her eyes, Ryback knew that she was totally serious. That was his only fear for this case. The insanity plea.

"I don't know." Ryback shrugged as they pulled out of the parking lot. "We'll just have to wait and see." And with that, they started toward the courthouse for an unpredictable trial.


	39. The Trial (B)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle and Lilly.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Violence, Domestic Violence, etc.

* * *

Adam looked about worriedly. He went over what Jay had told him in his head, but that didn't make it any better. Any minute now, Chris would be led into the courtroom. This, of course, would be the first time that he had seen Chris since the second attack at the club. It made him incredibly uncomfortable to think that Chris would be so close to him, even with law officials firmly in between them. Jay reminded him that he would be shackled and have an officer with him at all times, but that did little to calm Adam.

The ride to the courtroom had been made in utter silence. Randy had driven, mostly because he wasn't sure that Adam would get them both there safely, and every chance that he had to look over at Adam, he noted the absent look on his face. But when he has asked him if he was okay, he had dismissed it with a weak smile that was as transparent as water. Randy hadn't pushed and Adam remained silent. And now, as he sat out in the crowd of reporters and supporters, he realized that maybe that had been a mistake.

But he didn't have too much time to dwell on that. Because, at that moment, the doors swung open and Chris was dragged to the front of the room by Officer Ryback. Like Jay had said, he was shackled. He had a crazy, distant look in his eyes. And when his head swung to the side, those crazed blue eyes focused in on Adam. Adam flinched away, gripping the table until his knuckles turned white. Ryback saw this and turned Chris away. He forced him into his seat and stood as his side, his arms crossed behind his back.

The bailiff read off of a sheet of paper. "In the case of Copeland versus Jericho, the honorable Judge Jacobs presiding." Glen made his way to the front of the courtroom and took his seat. "You may be seated."

Glen looked over the notes for the case. "Are we all here?" He looked to Adam, nodded, and then to Chris… his eyes narrowed at the empty seat next to the defendant. "Mr. Jericho, where is your lawyer?"

Ryback crossed his arms over his chest. "Mr. Otunga is caught in traffic, sir. He apologizes profusely and should arrive momentarily." Ryback answered. Chris rolled his eyes and Ryback was barely able to resist the urge to swat his shoulder.

As if on cue, David stormed into the courtroom, papers flying every which way. All eyes were on him as he made his way over to his client. "It's nice of you to finally join us, Mr. Otunga."

David refused to meet the older man's eyes. "I'm very sorry, your honor. It won't happen again."

"See to it that it doesn't." Glen shuffled some papers. "Mr. Reso, would you like to make your opening statement?"

Jay nodded, rising out of his chair. "Yes, sir."

Jay squeezed Adam's hand, offering him some silent comfort, before he walked over to address the jury. Adam watched as Jay put him on the mercy of the court, demanding retribution for a crime that could never be forgiven, never be forgotten. He described to them the scene of Adam in the shower, thankfully sparing some of the more brutal details, and brutally jabbed his finger in Chris' direction. When he finished, they were all uncomfortable, flushed, and silent. That was exactly the way that he wanted them.

David's approach had a bit more flair for the dramatic. He had the gall to claim that _Adam_ was the one who had asked for Chris to 'love' him. There were no signs of a brutal attack and there was no rape on record, so who was to say that Chris had even attacked him that night? After all, Chris had never been prosecuted for the crime. Conveniently, he left out the tidbit about the under the table deal between Chris and the officers to have the case thrown out. When he finished, the reporters started to whisper amongst themselves.

"Order!" Glen slammed the gavel down. Immediately, silence prevailed. "The ball is in your court, Mr. Reso. Call your first witness."

Jay nodded. He offered Adam a quick look out of the corner of his eye, just to make sure that he was okay, before he made his way forward. "The prosecution calls Vince McMahon to the stand."

Vince made his way to the front of the courtroom, his usual strut lost and a solemn look on his face. The owner of _D.A.M.N –The Hottest Male Exotic Dancers This Side of the World_ slid onto the stand and placed his hand on the bible, stating his full name and swearing to tell the whole truth and nothing else. When the bailiff carried the bible away, Jay approached the older man. There was a look of familiarity between both men, and with it, an obvious tension. Still, Jay pushed forward.

"I promise I'll start out easy for you." Jay smirked, not missing the heat in Vince's glare. "You run a fairly profitable business, don't you, Mr. McMahon?" A nod. "About how long would you say you've been in business?"

Vince was silent for a moment as he tried to think, before he offered, "I'd say the better part of ten years. We had to close for the lesser half of 2006, though. There had been some… unfavorable incidents."

"Would you care to share what these unfavorable incidents were?" Jay asked.

Vince frowned. "I wouldn't."

Glen looked at the witness distractedly. "Remember, you're under oath."

"Just answer the question, Mr. McMahon." Jay pushed a little harder.

Finally, Vince cracked. "There had been a series of attacks on the dancers. It was unprecedented, because we have a strict 'look, don't touch' motto – unless, of course, the dancer initiates it."

Jay nodded, seeming to take all of this in. He paced back and forth in front of the witness stand. "Tell me more about these attacks. Was it assault? Was it _rape_?" The added push to that word earned him a glare from Chris. "Well?"

Vince looked down. "It was rape."

"And how do you know that it was rape, Mr. McMahon?" Jay continued.

Vince's stare suddenly turned cold and distant. "Three of my dancers were attacked. One of them was my boy, Shawn. He was totally destroyed by that monster! Shawn was faithful, I know it. And even if he wasn't, you don't look like that after…"

Jay could tell that it was time to ease off of the gas pedal a little bit. He nodded and waited for Vince to calm, and once he did, he asked, "Was Adam one of the dancers that was raped?"

"Yes." Vince confirmed immediately.

"Do you remember when? I don't need an exact date. Just a month and a year will do it." Jay said.

"The fourth of December, 2006." Vince rattled off, as if he knew the date by heart.

Jay took a small Ziploc baggy over to the judge and handed it to him. "I enter exhibit A into evidence. This is the print-out of Adam's rape kit, dated December 4th, 2006." He turned to Vince. "No further questions."

Now, it was David Otunga's turn. Adam watched in silent wonder as he made his way across the room. He, too, looked incredibly familiar. If only he could remember where he had seen him… But he was brought back to the present by the voice of his lawyer, asking if he was okay. His voice was silent and unobtrusive, his head turned just so in order for his voice to be muffled and not carry to the judge. Adam nodded blandly. It was too early in the case to decide if he was really okay or not.

David had a video with him. He asked if they could play it and, with another wave of disinterest, Glen nodded. A small television was rolled in and he popped the video cassette into the VCR. Black and white lines of static danced across the screen. And then, in a flash, a black and white shot of the parking lot outside of _D.A.M.N. _could be seen. The two people in the picture were clearly Adam and Chris. It showed a violent struggle between the two of them, and it looked, for the most part, as if Adam was the aggressor.

David paused the video with Adam's hands around Chris' neck. He circled Adam's body in red ink. "Mr. McMahon, do tell me… is this not Adam Copeland, the man who brings a rape case against Mr. Jericho today?"

Vince frowned. "Yes, that's him."

"And what does he appear to be doing?" David asked, tapping his pen against the television screen.

Vince sighed. "It appears as if he's strangling Jericho." But Vince continued on to say that, "Unbeknownst to any of us at the time, Adam was pregnant. He couldn't have been the aggressor. It had to be self-defense."

"Just answer the questions, Mr. McMahon. Nothing more." Glen flipped his pen and turned his glare to Otunga. "Does this have a point, counselor? Or can the prosecution call their next witness?"

"Actually, I _do_ have a point, your honor." He walked over to the table and picked up a police report. "And, according to the NYPD, Mr. Jericho has a very serious case."

He read off the police report. As Chris had worded it to the officer, Adam had been the assailant. They had been in a relationship for several years, but had recently hit hard times when Adam would come home at all hours with different men and entertain them in their room. Adam flushed darkly and looked down, ashamed of Chris' lies. The report went on to say that, in a violent attack, Adam had strangled him until he lost consciousness and had left him in the parking lot to be abused, or killed, in his vulnerable state.

"Has Mr. Copeland been under your supervision for a long time?" David asked. Vince nodded. "How many years would you say?"

"All of the years that the club has been open. He's a favorite of the customers." Vince said.

"Did he ever have a boyfriend, a serious, committed relationship, or was it simply all one night stands?" David asked. There was malice in his eyes and hatred dripping from his voice.

"I've never seen him with a boyfriend, no. But I'm his employer. I'm there to make sure he sells his best asset: his body. Remember, look but don't touch. It's not my business to know what goes on between his sheets."

"Let it be known that the man closest to Adam cannot confirm whether or not he was in a committed relationship. And, as Vince said, he commonly 'sold' his body. Not only is he a slut, but he's a prostitute as well!" David exclaimed.

Tears streaked down Adam's cheeks. Jay rose out of his chair, mortified. "Objection."

"Sustained. That will be all, counselor. Next witness." Glen banged the gavel.

The next two witnesses were short and sweet. The first one was JoMo. He, too, confessed to the fact that he had been the third and final rape victim at _D.A.M.N._ He was also the only one to be able to get a clear look at his attacker. When asked by Jay to name that man, he was able to identify Chris. But David quickly tore him down, somehow managing to make him look lower than trash. John broke down on the stand and Glen, thankfully, released him before he had to deal with any more questions from Otunga.

After that was Jeff. Obviously, he didn't want to be there. His boyfriend was getting uncomfortably close to his due date and was ordered on bed rest, so he couldn't travel with him. He was a bit harder to break, and it was clear that Otunga feared him. And rightfully so. Once he saw that David had made Adam cry, he was set on making David's life hell from the other side of the stand. All of the information they received was beneficial to their case, and when Jeff was dismissed, he offered a wary smile and left.

"Next witness, counselor?" Glen asked.

"The defense calls Wade Barrett to the stand."


	40. The Trial (C)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle and Lilly.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Violence, Domestic Violence, etc.

* * *

"Please state your name for the record, sir." David turned to the man on the stand, a sinister smile on his face.

The brawler rolled his eyes, still not entirely sure _why_ David had insisted that he come here. "Wade Barrett."

"Mr. Barrett, is it true that you entertained a relationship with Mr. Copeland here for three years?" He received a nod. "What kind of boyfriend was Mr. Copeland? Was he faithful?" David asked.

Wade shrugged, clearly disinterested. "About as loyal as he could be, I guess. He was a bloody stripper, after all. When you take your clothes off for a living, it's kind of hard to keep it in your pants."

"Understood." David nodded. "Now, Mr. Barrett, where you aware that Adam was pregnant with your child at the time he was allegedly raped by the defendant, Chris Jericho?"

Wade frowned and shook his head. "No. I was in an accident at the fight club. Banged my head up pretty good. I was on life support for several years. Freak of nature that brought me back, yeah."

"When did this accident take place?" David asked.

"February of 2007." Wade answered offhandedly. "My memory's a little off, so I don't remember the exact date."

"That will do, Mr. Barrett. That will do." And then, he fired off another question. "Did Adam ever mention the defendant, Mr. Jericho, to you?"

Once again, Wade shrugged. "Not that I can remember."

David made his way over to the jury. "Let it be known that Adam, who claims that this man brutally _raped_ him and almost killed his baby, didn't even tell his own boyfriend, the man he trusted above all else, about the incident." A pause. "No further questions."

It was the prosecution's witness. Jay didn't even know what to say to that. It wasn't that he hadn't prepared for them to pull a dirty, underhanded trick like that, but that he hadn't expected David to go so low as to pull a half-dead man out of the woodwork and use him against his own ex-boyfriend. But that was okay. The ball was in Jay's court. And he was about to learn just how hard the other man could play ball. When Jay was done with him, he'd never set foot in another courtroom without remembering his name.

Jay rose out of his chair and made a show of fixing his tie and smoothing the wrinkles out of his otherwise pristine black suit. All eyes were on him as he made his way to the stand where the British brawler was seated. The calm, collected look on his face was enough to make everyone nervous. Wade swallowed hard as Jay paced the distance in front of the stand once, twice, three times, and then turned and slammed his hands, palm down, onto the wooden structure in front of him.

"Think back a little while, would you, Mr. Barrett. I want you to think back to December of 2004. Your first Christmas with Adam. The first time he was pregnant. And only a month into your relationship too. What happened to that baby, Mr. Barrett?"

Wade looked to Glen for help, realized he would receive none from the indifferent judge, and frowned. "He miscarried and the child died." He confessed, just loud enough for the microphone to pick up.

"And the second child, four months later?"

"He miscarried that one too."

"The third child, which was October of 2005. He lost that one on his birthday, didn't he?" A pause. "The fourth, six months later?"

"We had some trouble with conception. There's no need to rub it in. It's painful enough as it is."

Jay smiled softly. "Forgive me for coming off as crude. I simply mean to point out to these kind people here that you _have_ had some trouble with conception. I would like to enter this into evidence for the prosecution as Exhibit B."

It's not unusual for men to be able to bear children, but some have better luck than others. This is because, while there is really only one way for women to conceive, there are several for men. The most common is a biological mutation that was far too complicated for the doctor who examined Adam to explain to the court, but it was also the least likely for success. This was how Adam carried Brielle. And, consequently, the four other children that he lost.

The doctor had examined Adam and determined that, because of extensive damage that occurred in the rape (even if it had been six years ago), the biological abnormality had been 'injured'. Something within Adam had ruptured when Chris had raped Adam and it was very true that he could have lost the baby. The rupture would have caused intense internal bleeding, which in most cases resulted in death of both the parent and the fetus. He was lucky to still be alive.

"Were you rough in bed, Mr. Barrett?" Jay asked, his face a stony mask.

"Excuse me?" He asked. Color rose in his cheeks and he looked to Glen for a defense.

"Does this have a point, counselor?" Glen asked, flipping a pencil between his fingers.

"Yes, actually, it does." Jay said, leaning his shoulder on the witness stand.

"You're under oath, Mr. Barrett. Answer Mr. Reso's question."

Wade crossed his arms over his chest, obviously starting to take a defensive stance. "No, I wouldn't say that I was particularly rough in bed. I loved Adam. Why would I want to hurt him?"

Jay nodded. He could barely contain his smirk. The last thing Wade wanted to be was emotional. "That's fine, Mr. Barrett. Real fine." He took out a disc and put it into the DVD player. "Did you ever make him bleed?"

"I don't see what that has to do with anything." The jury started to mumble amongst themselves, clearly displeased by Wade's refusing to answer the question.

Jay frowned. "Just answer the question, Mr. Barrett."

"Fine. Yes. Maybe once or twice. It was always an accident, though. It's not my fault he can't take it like a man."

Jay chose to ignore that last comment. Instead, he turned to the television screen and pointed out two nearly identical pictures. The first was an x-ray of the inside of Adam's body; the second was an x-ray of the inside of a normal adult male's body with the same biological abnormality. With his green marker, Jay circled a small tear that Adam had, but the normal one did not. That was the reason that Adam kept loosing children. And it started with Wade.

"You see that there?" Jay tapped the screen. "As a brawler, I would think you would know how it feels to tear your meniscus. Nasty, right? That? That's about ten times worse. And it can kill you."

"What the hell? I never did that to him!" Wade exclaimed. He was rising to his feet, but Glen slammed the gavel down and ordered him to sit down or he would have him in contempt of court.

"Oh, but you did. You screwed yourself over when you said that you had made him bleed. You started the tear and," he pressed 'play' and it rolled over to the next set of pictures, "the defendant tore it completely."

Hushed whispers filled the courtroom. Wade, for lack of a better word, was stunned. "Order! Order!"

Jay turned off the DVD. "I enter this as Exhibit C." And then, to Wade. "No further questions."

"Court is in recess."

* * *

Adam went off to the comfort of Jeff, who shushed him and silently assured him that Chris wouldn't win this time. But really, he couldn't be sure. All they had in their favor was some circumstantial evidence and a rape kit that was six years old. But he didn't let Adam dwell on that. With Jay's permission, he took Adam and John out to breakfast just a little ways down the road. The recess would only last an hour or so, so they would need to stay close by.

Jay crushed a water bottle in his hand as he tried to think of a new approach. He may have won the battle with Wade, but if David continued to find the worms in the apple, he knew that he couldn't win every battle. He needed a bombshell. He needed someone that would convince the entire jury of Chris' guilt, and it had to be more than hearsay. He needed someone with a first-hand account of the bad blood that ran through Chris' veins. And he knew just who to get.

He finished off his water bottle and tossed it into the recycling bin. With a confident smile, he made his way over to Randy and pulled him away from the crowd. Randy was just as worried as everyone else. He knew that the chances of a conviction were slim to none, and that was why Jay singled him out. It was clear how much he loved Adam and that he would do anything for him. Even go against his better judgment to make the case sway in their favor…

"What is it, Jay? What do you need?" Randy asked.

Jay met his eyes. "I need Brielle."


	41. The Trial (D)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Violence, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Randy stood outside of Brielle's hospital room. The little child clutched Mr. Fluffykins to her chest, a worried look on her normally serene face. The nurse immediately walked in. "Good afternoon, Brielle."

Brielle's head snapped up and she took in her two visitors. The nurse was a familiar face, but she cowered from Randy's tall, lean form. "Hello, nurse lady." She squeaked out.

The nurse motioned to Randy. "You don't have to be afraid, Brie. This is a very nice man that your Mommy sent to come pick you up and take you to the courthouse. You can trust him."

Brielle looked skeptical for a moment, before she lowered her head and muttered softly, "He's not gonna hurt me like the bad man did, right?" Randy's heart all but shattered at the utter terror in her little voice.

"I can promise you know, baby girl, that the 'bad man' will _never_ be able to put his hands on you again. I won't let him." Randy's strong, confident tone seemed to reassure her a little bit.

"Why don't you introduce yourself to her? Maybe that would make her feel a little more at ease." It was true. Up until Adam had explained the situation to her – in child's terms, of course – she hadn't known who her kidnapper was.

Randy's lengthy stride brought him over to the other side of the room in a matter of seconds. He extended his hand and took hold of Brielle's smaller one, shaking it. "The name's Randy Orton. It's a pleasure to meet you, miss."

Brielle's sweet eyes widened. "_You're_ Randy Orton?" She asked. He nodded. "It's okay. He can stay." Now, she knew that the nurse's words were true. He really _did_ have Adam's commendation.

The nurse smiled, ruffling Brielle's luscious blonde curls. Grabbing the chart off of the foot of the bed, she said, "I'll just leave you two alone, then." And then, she took her leave.

Randy and Brielle were submerged into a comfortable silence. Brielle shifted around, drawing her knees into her chest and wrapping her little arms, which were just barely long enough to reach, around them. At first, it seemed as if she would just be content with the silence. But then, he saw the wheels as they turned in her head. He had passed the first test, but that wasn't the only one. He still wasn't square in her book.

All of a sudden, Brielle's hand snapped out and took hold of his left hand – which he had tried to keep hidden behind his back – looking at the golden band that circled his ring finger. The confusion on her face was obvious. She knew that Adam would have told her if he intended to get married, so that couldn't be it. And she _knew_ that he wouldn't dare to hurt her Mommy, because then he would have to answer to her. She was small, but also remarkably strong.

Randy sighed, drawing his hand back. He motioned to the ring. "You wanna know about this, huh?"

Brielle nodded. She had a worried, frustrated, look on her face. "You're not gonna hurt my Mommy, are you?"

Randy's eyes widened. "What? No! I would never dream of hurting Adam! I promise, baby, I love him and, even though this is the first time I met you, I love you too – because you're a part of him."

Brielle smiled a little, but there was still worry in her eyes. "Then what is it?"

Randy looked down at the ring, remembering his ceremony with Sam all those years ago. "I used to be married. She was a beautiful lady, and we had a beautiful little girl. In fact, you remind me of her."

Brielle's smile became a full-blown grin. But then, she sobered up, "What happened to her?"

"She died in a car accident." Brielle's eyes widened. "It's okay. She's in a better place now."

"I'm sorry that she died." Brielle said. "But I'm glad that my Mommy has you now."

Randy smiled, brushing her hair out from in front of her eyes and kissing her forehead. "I'm glad that I have the both of you in my life. I know that it's better because of it."

Brielle seemed to like that, because she graced him with the first honest smile that he had received in all of the time that he had been there. It was nice – he would think on the day later with a sort of fondness. Maybe when he and Adam had grown old, and all of this terror was behind them. Brielle and Alannah would grow up together, as if they were actual sisters, and they would head off and find husbands of their own, and the cycle would continue…

He looked at the clock. As much as that was a pleasant thought, there were steps that had to be taken to assure that that could happen. He rose off of the foot of the bed and brushed the wrinkles out of his shirt. Brielle watched him in childish fascination, even as Randy reached for her and Brielle allowed him to lift her out of the bed. She wrapped her tiny arms around Randy's neck and set her head on his shoulder.

Randy rocked her back and forth, balancing her with one arm while he gathered her stuff with the other. While he was out in the hallway with the nurse, she had informed him about how to treat Brielle's wounds. He would make sure that she was taken care of, because he couldn't risk becoming a second Chris. He wanted to be the father that she had never had, and in order to do that, he needed to obtain her trust. From the way she held onto him, he'd come far.

Brielle tilted her head back so that she could look at Randy. "Where are we going?"

"Where?" He asked. "We're going to see your Mommy."

"Why can't Mommy come to see me?" Brielle asked innocently.

"Mommy is in court right now." Randy said honestly. "We're gonna go see them there. And he asked me to ask if you'd do him a _huge_ favor." Randy took hold of her hand. "Would you tell the court what Chris did to you?"

Brielle's eyes widened and she started to squirm, suddenly terrified. "I don't… I don't wanna… put me down… I don't wanna!" She started to scream, but Randy gently shushed her.

"Shh… calm down, sweetheart. You're Mommy really needs you to do this. We _all_ need you to do this." Randy told her. "He will never be able to touch you. Officer Reeves will be on him at all times."

Brielle bit down on her bottom lip. "For Mommy?"

"For Mommy. To put that creep behind bars forever."

Brielle sniffled, before she nodded. "Okay. For Mommy."

"That's a good girl." Randy kissed her forehead, gathering the last of her stuff and stuffing it into his bag. "I'm very proud of you. And I know that your Mommy will be too."

* * *

Brielle sat on the stand, awkwardly twisting her hands into knots as she watched the unfamiliar people walk back and forth. It was obvious that she had a clear distaste for David Otunga, and she wasn't the only one. Adam didn't like him and neither did JoMo, who had decided to stay around for the rest of the trial (It had been a last minute decision and, needless to say, Mike wasn't thrilled with it).

She had already been sworn in, so that wasn't the issue. David was throwing a whole mess of legal jargon and the judge, trying to get him to throw out Brielle's testimony because Jay hadn't informed him that they were having her take the stand. He even went so far as to claim that he didn't even know Adam's daughter had survived, which lead to the question: survived _what_? When asked that, David immediately shut his mouth.

Jay gathered his folders and walked over to the stand, meeting the eyes of the little girl and forcing a smile onto his face. It wouldn't do to scare her more than was absolutely necessary. If this whole mess didn't traumatize her, he wasn't sure what would. Approaching the stand, he reached over and shook her little hand. She smiled, but still didn't say a word.

"I don't want to scare you sweetheart, so I'll just say this. Whatever you want to tell us about Chris, tell us. I won't push you into a corner. Tell us as much or as little as you'd like. The only one that would know is you."

Brielle stared at Chris, her eyes wide and a little afraid. "He can't hurt me, right?"

Jay nodded. "He won't touch you. I promise."

Brielle swallowed hard, taking his words into consideration. "Okay. Then I'll tell you everything."


	42. Trial (Final)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Violence, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

"Okay, sweetheart. Can you tell me if your Daddy is in the courtroom?" Jay asked softly. Brielle was silent for a moment, but Jay didn't repeat the question. Finally, she turned her head and locked eyes with Wade.

"He's my Daddy." She answered clearly into the microphone. An uncomfortable silence fell over the courtroom. Chris' eyes slowly started to widen. He was about to lurch out of his chair, when Ryback's hand closed around his shoulder and shoved him back down.

"Do you have any relation by blood to Mr. Jericho over there?" Jay pointed to Chris, who was seething like a rabid animal in his chair. Brielle was silent again. She turned her pale face to Chris, and then back to Jay.

"I don't think so. I only met him when he came to my hospital room two weeks ago. He was really mean to me." Tears brewed in Brielle's eyes and Jay hurriedly handed her Mr. Fluffykins. Instantly, she calmed down.

"Would you like to tell us about what he said, or did, to you?" Jay asked. She stroked the stuffed animal's short hair.

"He came to my hospital room and said that my Mommy didn't love me anymore. He said that he was the only one I could trust."

"Is it true that you had just undergone a major heart operation, Brielle?" The lawyer asked.

She nodded stiffly. "When he hit me, my chest really hurt. There was a lot of blood and I was really scared. I wanted my Mommy."

"But, by that time, he had convinced you that your Mommy didn't love you, or want you, anymore. Right?" Jay asked.

She sniffled and nodded, her blonde hair falling in front of her face. "Yeah. Each time that he hit me, he said that Mommy didn't care 'bout me. He said that Mommy didn't want me no more." The tears fell freely now. "I'm sorry, Mommy."

Jay tilted her little head back and looked into her teary eyes. "I want to tell you something, sweetheart. Nothing you could ever do or say could make Adam stop loving you, okay? Adam has, and always will, love you. _This_ doesn't change that."

"You sure?" Brielle asked, a little more hopeful this time.

"I'm positive, baby." Jay turned to the jury. "Let it be known that the defendant, Mr. Jericho, convinced the child that he was her biological father, when he wasn't, and physically harmed her." And then, back to Brielle, "No further questions."

This was the part that Adam had feared the most. David rose out of his chair and fixed his tie, a suave look on his face as he slowly rolled his chair under the table. He thought he was so smart, about to milk a child for some easy answers. But David didn't know the first thing about children. Brielle could read him like a book and she knew an ambulance chaser when she saw one. This, after all, was not the family's first encounter with the man known as David Otunga.

He had represented Chris once before, when Brielle couldn't have been more than two or three. It was amazing that she even remembered that far back, but his face roused some rather uncomfortable memories for her. He had been the lawyer that had defended Chris after Adam had supposedly throttled him in the parking lot of the club. Jay had also been the lawyer who had defended Adam, but it was unlikely that Adam remembered that. That was why Jay had been so generous this time around: he had seen Chris' effect on the small family.

David walked over to the stand and slammed his hands down in front of the little girl, leaning down so that they were at eye-level with one another. Remarkably, Brielle didn't back down. She continued to stoke the hair on her stuffed animal, narrowing her eyes at the taller man. Realizing that it was foolish to attempt to intimidate a child, he chose a different approach. Pacing back and forth, he thought of the first question he could ask her. And then, a devious smile came over his face.

"Are you aware of your 'mother's' profession, sweetheart?" He asked, his voice low. More tense silence filled the courtroom.

"He's a dancer." Brielle answered.

"Oh, I suppose that that's _one_ way to put it." David said. "I would rather consider him a professional slut, however." The tears returned to Brielle's eyes. "Did you know that getting on his back like some sort of whore for my client is how you were conceived?"

"Objection!" Jay called out. "She's only six, your honor! He's badgering the witness."

"Sustained." Glen slammed the gavel down. "Do you have a _point_, Mr. Otunga."

"I do, your honor. My point is that Adam whored himself out to just about everyone, including my client Mr. Jericho, for money. And if he happened to get pregnant, that is nobody's fault but his own. But to put that child in jeopardy is unacceptable."

Brielle narrowed her eyes at David. "Don't talk about my Mommy like that! He never put his hands on me. He never hurt me. That meanie did! I almost died and I was so scared and I didn't have my Mommy because of _him_."

David sighed. He turned to the judge, exasperated. "The witness is clearly emotional, your honor."

"You heard her, Mr. Otunga. Don't talk about her Mommy like that. And if you don't have any further questions, your claims are dismissed. The court is in recess for deliberation."

Brielle got down off of the stand and ran into Adam's arms, where he cradled her comfortingly. She sobbed into his chest, bunching the material of his suit in her tiny little hands. It was awful and unfair that she had to endure such trauma, but if it meant that Chris would be behind bars forever and could never hurt her again, he would hold her and comfort her for as long as she needed him to. Thankfully, the jury was only in deliberation for half an hour. The verdict: guilty on all counts.

Glen was quick to sentence him. It was obvious that he wanted this case over with. So many names had been dragged through the mud and now an innocent little girl had had to sit on the stand and endure the scathing words of David Otunga. For the rape, he was sentenced to twenty-five years to life. For the kidnapping, fifteen years. For assault on a minor, two years. And for a post-case slander against the family, David Otunga was to be held in contempt for thirty days.

"You did it, baby." Adam told her softly. Her cradled her in his arms and rocked her back and forth, listening for a break in her sniffles. "Chris can never hurt you again. I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

"I'm so tired. Can we go back home, Mommy?" Brielle asked, burying her face in his chest. It was somewhat difficult to understand what she was saying, but he did nonetheless.

Adam looked to Randy and locked eyes with him. "Yeah, baby. It's time to go home."


	43. Meeting Judy

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Violence, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

Carefully, Adam drew the blanket over his daughter's tiny body. She was already unconscious, her blonde curls splayed out over the pillow behind her tiny head, but Adam continued to murmur sweet words of comfort to her. It was apparent to Randy that he was still having difficulty accepting the fact that she was alive and well, knowing that nobody would be able to take her from him. Randy could tell that he was still in that courtroom, afraid for his life and the life of Brielle.

Another minute passed, followed by Adam's shoulders trembling violently. Randy was at his side in an instant, sitting on the side of the bed (careful to avoid Brielle's tiny feet under the thick, woolen blanket) and wrapped an arm around Adam's shoulders. The blond turned to him suddenly, startled. He blinked rapidly, attempting to conceal the tears that streaked down his pretty face. But Randy could see it and it broke his heart. Reaching up, he wiped the tears away with the pad of his thumb.

"What's the matter, baby?" Randy asked softly, making sure that he wouldn't wake up Brielle. "C'mon now, don't cry. You know that you can tell me anything, don't you?" He continued, cleaning Adam's face of any stray tears.

Adam shook his head, looking downward. Randy, thinking this was a rejection, was about to interject – that was, of course, until Adam opened his mouth and started to pour his heart out. "I was so… I was so _stupid_! Oh God – what did I do?"

Randy shushed him softly, rocking them both back and forth in the process. "Shh… hush now, baby boy. It's okay. You're not stupid. Just tell me what happened. C'mon, baby, it's okay."

Adam tilted his head back, staring at him with watery eyes. "I didn't tell her." And then the tears started to pour from his eyes. "I was so ashamed, I didn't… I was so convinced she would hate me, so I never told her. I never told her about… Brielle."

"Who are you talking about, Addy? Who didn't you tell?" Randy continued to lull him into a semi-conscious state where he was willing to confess just about anything, while still feeling safe and secure.

"I didn't tell… I didn't tell _her_. My _Ma_. Oh God, Randy, what did I do?" Adam started to sob into Randy's chest, his tears renewed. He had no mind for waking Brielle anymore, not that the child would have woken anyhow.

Randy held him tight to his chest, closing his eyes as he felt each of Adam's sobs like they were his own. He wished that he could take his lover's misery and make it his own, because then he could understand what made Adam hurt so much. It didn't matter how many times he heard the story. It didn't matter how long he sat there and held the beautiful blond as he cried. It wasn't his battle, it wasn't his pain. He could only endure it as a spectator, and that slowly killed him inside.

Adam then proceeded to tell him the small sliver of the story that the court didn't hear – it wasn't that he was withholding evidence, of course, but rather that it wasn't pertinent to the case. After Adam had been assaulted, he had been so sure that he had lost the baby… so terrified, in fact, that he hadn't even told Wade about it. He had scheduled an ultrasound as soon as he could, too mortified to go to the hospital, but by that time, Wade had already 'died'.

He said he had never told his mother because he didn't know _how_ to. His mother had always raised him to believe that he could come to her with _anything_, but this was far beyond giving some boy a black eye in the playground or having a fall-out with his best friend. No, this was very different. And because of his inability to tell her about Brielle, he had lost all contact with her six years ago. She didn't know about Brielle's kidnapping, or the case, or that he was in Canada at all.

"I.. I miss her _so_ much." Adam sobbed into Randy's chest, just now barely able to bring himself under control.

"If you miss her so much, then why don't we go and see her?" Randy proposed.

Adam drew back, the tears shocked from his eyes. He looked up into Randy's eyes, once again in awe of what this man would do for him. "You'd do that… for me? For… us?"

"Look at me, Adam." Adam didn't dare look away. "I love you. Both you and Brielle are part of my life now. I would do anything within my power to make you happy. And your mother will make you happy."

Adam scrubbed at his eyes, barely able to get any friction with the tears that were glistening there. "But… how do I know that I'll make _her_ happy? What if she doesn't want to see me?"

"She'll want to see you because you're her son and she loves you. And she'll love Brielle too."

For the first time in a long while, a smile broke out on the pretty blonde's face. "You're an amazing man, Randy."

Randy looked down, more than a little embarrassed by the sudden compliment. "I try."

They had rented the room for another three days, not knowing how long the trial would take. Randy insisted, however, that they check out and find a hotel closer to Adam's mother's house. Adam had scoffed and replied that his mother would be insulted that he even insinuated she'd make them stay at a hotel. That had earned a rare, but beautiful laugh from the duo. So, Randy took his wallet and went downstairs. He paid for their stay (and the three extra nights), before he came back up.

By the time he had returned, Adam had all of their suitcases ready (not that they had all that much – it had been a spur of the moment trip, after all, and most of their stuff had been bought in Canada) and Brielle was wrapped loosely in her baby blanket. Her head rested in the crook of Adam's neck and her soft breath made the blond hairs there stand on end. She looked absolutely adorable. Randy smoothed her hair down and kissed her temple, smiling as she cooed softly and shifted in Adam's arms.

"Thank you again for this." Adam whispered now. Now that his emotions had been spent, he didn't want to run the risk of waking the child. "You don't know how much this means to us."

"If it means half as much to you as it does to me, then yeah, I think I do." Randy smiled, before he opened the door and let Adam wander into the hallway. It was the start of their new adventure… together.

* * *

Adam cuddled Brielle to his chest, standing in front of the door to his mother's house. He stared at it for several minutes, the look on his face depicting a man who was afraid that something was about to leap out of the dark and violently assault him. Brielle let out a soft cry and Adam started to rock her back and forth, having forgotten for a second how cold it was outside. The poor baby must be absolutely freezing.

Brielle's sweet eyes slowly flickered, and her long ebony lashes parted to reveal sleep-hazed eyes. "Momma?" She slurred, rubbing at her eye with one fat fist. "Momma, where are we?" She asked, her voice ever-so-innocent.

"We're at Grandma's house, baby girl." Adam answered nonchalantly. He was too busy staring into the memories of his childhood to notice the look of confusion on his daughter's face.

"Who's Grandma?" Brielle asked, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

Finally, Adam was broken out of his reverie. "She's _my_ Momma, baby. And she'll be so happy to meet you."

Brielle looked uncertain. "Brielle doesn't like strangers." She almost stuck her thumb in her mouth, but at the last second, thought better of it and retracted it, choosing instead to knot it in her baby blanket.

"Now, Brielle – it's not 'Brielle doesn't like strangers', it's 'I don't like strangers'." Adam corrected her gently. "And Grandma isn't a stranger. She's a very nice lady and she loves us both very much."

Brielle cocked her head to the side, still confused. "Then why hasn't Momma knocked on the door yet?"

That was true. If he was so sure that she would be so happy to see them, why _hadn't_ he knocked on the door yet? Looking back to Randy, who nodded from his position at the car, he took one last definitive step forward and knocked on the door. There was the sound of clatter from the kitchen, followed by the homely voice of a woman that he knew so well. It warmed his heart to think that nothing had changed. He hoped that that was the truth, anyhow.

A few seconds later, the door swung open. His Ma stood on the other side, still dressed in her favorite apron that he had bought for her for mother's day one year. Their eyes locked for a minute, his filled with wonder and awe, hers filling with tears, before she closed the distance between them and pulled him into the tightest, warmest hug that he had ever received. She didn't even notice the tiny bundle in his arms until she let out a semi-uncomfortable wheeze. Judy pulled away hurriedly.

"What was that?" She asked, her eyes wide and confused.

"Ma…" Adam took a deep breath. It was time to throw all of his cards down onto the table and hope for the best. "Ma, this is your granddaughter, Brielle. Brielle, meet your Grandma."


	44. Convince Me To Stay

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Violence, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

"Her name is… Brielle?" Judy forced out. She didn't seem upset, no, a better word for it would be shocked. "And she is my… granddaughter? Your… daughter? She's yours?" She continued to make the connections, unable to look away from the pretty child.

"Yeah, Ma. It's a… well, it's a long story. If you don't mind, maybe I could tell it to you over some coffee?" Adam offered, his smile sort of lopsided and extremely hopeful. But the truth was in his eyes. He was absolutely terrified.

"Of course, of course. You two must be freezing out there! Come in, come in." With a shaky hand, she ushered her son and granddaughter into the house. It was only when she was about to shut the door that she noticed there was someone else outside, "Adam, who is this?"

"Oh, Ma, that's Randy. He's -," but Randy cut him off.

"I was just about to head home, actually. I wouldn't want to ruin the family reunion." Randy forced out behind a blank smile.

Adam blinked several times as he tried to understand what Randy had just said. "What?"

"I told you that you and Brielle were my number one priority. Nothing else matters to me, aside from my own daughter back home. You're happy and safe now, so you really don't need me anymore." Randy shrugged, trying to come off as indifferent. It didn't work.

Adam set Brielle down on the floor, even as she whined at the loss. "Why don't you go see what grandma's been cooking, baby?"

"But, Mommy…" Brielle whined, pulling on the side of his jeans. "I want Mommy."

It was at that point that Judy intervened. "You know, I have a special present for a certain little girl." Brielle turned around, her eyes shimmering with tears that had not fallen yet. Judy handed her the dolly. "It used to be Adam's, but I don't think he'd mind."

Brielle smiled as the doll's hair tumbled over her little arms. She hugged it tight to her chest and swung it back and forth. "Really, Mommy? Can I have the dolly? Pretty please?" She stuck out her bottom lip and batted her eyelashes as quickly as she could.

"Yes, baby. You can have the dolly. Why don't you see if grandma can fix some of the holes in it while I go talk to Randy." Adam said.

"If that's the plan, Adam, then I'd suggest you hurry." Judy subtly inclined her head to the door. "That boy moves awfully fast."

Adam rolled his eyes, remembering when he had tried to leave the first time. "Don't remind me."

Adam raced out the front door, listening to the soft _clatter_ as the wind forced it closed behind him. It was as if Judy could see into the future by whatever mystical means, because Randy had already packed all of his stuff back into the rental car and was now behind the steering wheel, looking for the keys in order to drive off. He didn't seem to be in too much of a hurry, however, until he saw Adam slowly making his way toward the car. Now, with fumbling hands, he forced the key into the ignition and tried to start the car. It wouldn't catch, however.

Adam touched a hand to the window, waiting until Randy finally abandoned his task and rolled the window down. For several minutes, Randy steadfastly ignored the man outside his window. Finally, having no other choice, he rolled down the window and peered outside. Adam leaned against the car door, staring into Randy's blue eyes. The eyes were filled with hurt and confusion, and beneath it all, so much angst that it made Adam's heart hurt. How could it have gotten this bad? How could all of this have downgraded so quickly?

"What is the meaning of this, Randy?" Adam asked, almost afraid of how the shorter man would answer. "You said that we were your number one priority, so why would you just turn your back on us now?"

Randy blinked dumbly. "I told you – you're happy and safe now, so you don't need me anymore."

"Is that all you think you are to us? A safe haven to be tapped into 'as needed'?" Adam looked insulted. "That's really sad, Randy."

"Look, I know what I said. I told you that I love you. I meant it, and I still do. You two mean the world to me. But I can't…" he trailed off, "I'm not sure that I can be the man the two of you need me to be. I love you, but -,"

Adam sighed. "You love me, but you don't think that that will be enough?" He asked. Randy nodded, his eyes downcast. "I can certainly tell you that Wade didn't love me, and neither did Chris. You already have quite a head start."

"Brielle needs a father." Randy continued.

"And you're already a father. And a damn good one, I might add." Adam smiled softly.

Randy smiled a little at that, but a dark flush came over his cheeks. "I'm far from perfect."

"I'm not asking for perfect. I'm just asking for you to try."

At that moment, Judy lifted a laughing Brielle into the air, spinning her around in wide circles to mimic a helicopter. Brielle was laughing, her blonde wavy hair falling around her in a sort of halo. She looked so beautiful. It stole both of their breath away. Adam took Randy's momentary distraction as the chance to slide into the passenger seat and close the door softly behind him. Randy, startled out of his silent reverie by the sudden noise, turned to face him. Shock was written on his face, but it slowly melted away to a look of… pleasure.

Leaning forward, Adam closed the distance between them and kissed him softly. It was little more than a tentative brush of the lips, but it still made Randy's heart flutter as if a thousand butterflies had been released in his chest. Acting on instinct alone, he _reacted_. Taking hold of Adam's silken blond hair, he pulled the blond into his chest and deepened the kiss, dragging his tongue over the taller man's bottom lip. Moaning, he sucked the plump bottom lip in between his teeth and sucked on it softly.

Randy was the first to draw back, a confused look on his face. It was almost as if he couldn't believe what he had done. But Adam wouldn't let him think like that. He _couldn't_ let him think like that. Adam and Brielle _needed_ Randy, and somehow, he needed to prove that fact to Randy. He took hold of Randy's neck and pulled him back, their lips connecting in a brutal kiss that left both tasting the coppery tang of blood. But he didn't pull back, and he didn't let Randy pull back either. Only when both were in need of air did they pull away.

"I don't know what else I can do to prove to you that I love you." Adam said, staring into Randy's eyes. "We both need each other, Randy. It wasn't an accident that we met and you know it. Phil and Mike knew we would be perfect for each other."

Randy flushed at the memory. "They knew that I wasn't gay, though." He looked away from Adam, trying to conceal his embarrassment. "Are you saying that it was fate that we met?"

Adam shook his head. "No, I don't believe in fate. If I believed in fate, then I would have died a long time ago. Nobody should have to live through what we endured, but we survived. There has to be a reason for that."

_"I think Randy's in love." Mike snickered. Phil chuckled when he realized that the brunette hadn't taken his eyes off of Adam since the dance started._

_"I am not." Randy said defiantly. "But, I have to admit that he is… charming."_

_"He's hot." Phil called out, the only one of them who wasn't drunk off of his rocker._

_"Why don't we call him over and see how much you __don't __like him?" Mike offered and Phil nodded. He motioned for the blond beauty to come over, and after a second, he danced over to their table._

_So, this was the table of VIPs that Eve had been so worried about. Adam rolled his eyes. Two of them were so captivated by the other dancers that they couldn't walk away unsatisfied. But the man in the middle, well… he seemed a little out of place and __extremely __uncomfortable. He would have to remedy that. Slowly, he slid onto the man's lap and thrust down his hips._

_Mike stuffed a bottle of wine into his hands, because it was well-known that when he was drunk he loosened up. He downed a quarter of the bottle and slammed it down on the table, before he leaned forward and kissed the man. Randy's eyes were blown wide, and Adam kissed the man once more. The music was starting to wind down, so he rose and walked back toward the stage._

_Randy was head over heels in lust._

Randy pulled himself from the memory, the ghost of a smile on his face. "Well, then, I guess we have Phil and Mike to thank for this after all."

"Yeah, I guess so." He returned the smile happily. "Are you ready to head in there now? I'm sure that my Ma would love to meet you – for real, this time. If you go in there, there's no walking away at the last minute." Adam said.

Randy looked into the window, watching as Brielle flew through the air, laughing happily. "I think so."

Adam kissed his cheek. "You think so? I _know_ so."

* * *

Tenderly, Randy spread the blond's legs and settled himself between his muscular thighs. His blue eyes danced over Adam's body, a small smile dancing across his lips. It wasn't the first time that he had taken the opportunity to admire the blond's body, but it never ceased to amaze him just how beautiful the blond was. Taking one slick finger, he teased it over the blond's entrance. Adam bucked his hips against it, the feeling of it breaching his tight muscles and slipping inside one of absolute bliss. He had needed this so badly.

Randy twisted the finger around, loving the way Adam's body reacted to the simple stimuli. When he deemed him ready to take another finger, he removed both, slicked them with lube, and slipped them both into the blond's tight channel. Adam's nose wrinkled cutely, before a breathy moan fell past his lips. He slammed his hips down on Randy's fingers, screaming in absolute ecstasy as they brushed his prostate. Randy smirked. Another finger was added, and he scissored them slowly. Adam had become a mess of mewling moans.

"You ready for me, baby?" He would add that he didn't want to hurt Adam or force him if he wasn't ready, but he guessed that that was already a given. Adam nodded quickly, too blissed-out to utter coherent words.

Randy slicked his erection, before sliding in to Adam's hot channel with one smooth thrust. Nice and easy, there was no need to rush. Not anymore. He lifted Adam's legs, starting a smooth, comfortable pace. But Adam wouldn't have any of that. He clenched his channel, loving the way all of the color drained out of Randy's face. Randy sped up, the head of his cock hammering into Adam's prostate. With the change in angle and speed, it only took a few minutes for Adam to cum. When he clenched around Randy again, Randy spilled inside of him.

Carefully, Randy pulled out and fell down beside Adam, his breathing heavy. "I love you so much." He said breathlessly.

"I love you too." Adam said. "And you're not going anywhere. I won't let you."

Randy smiled, kissing Adam's forehead softly. "I wouldn't have it any other way."


	45. Interlude (A)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Violence, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

The door to his cell slid open with a not-so-subtle _clatter_, and as he looked inside, he felt his blood run cold. His cell-mate was incredibly familiar to him, and that fact unsettled him. They had had a rather successful hit-and-run business for a while there, where he would nab the victims and Chris would attack them. After all, the brains and the brawn had been distributed that way, and why mess with the natural order? But, as it turned out, maybe the Neanderthal had a bit of a brain after all. He'd wised up to Chris' plan and tried to turn him in. It didn't work.

Now, Chris stared into the eyes of his former partner-in-crime, realizing that only a few feet stood between them now. And soon, even those would be eradicated. With a forceful shove, he stumbled into the cell and listened as the door slammed closed with a _clack_. Once the lock slid into place, he knew that he was on his own. Now unshackled, he moved backward until his back was pressed against the door. The bald man rose off his bed, the metal creaking from the relief from the weight. Chris swallowed hard. So, this was how he would die.

A meaty hand slapped him in the chest, a few centimeters below the throat. It cut off all of the air to his brain and for a second, he blacked out. But then, that hand closed around his throat and shook him violently for several seconds. The black dots came back more viciously this time. He felt like he was about to upchuck, not that anyone would have cared. There was a special hatred amongst the cops and inmates for those who had hurt children, and Chris had just hit that pet-peeve on the head. His throat raw, he tried to force out words. It was useless.

With a measly flick of his wrist, he sent Chris flying across their tiny little cell. Wasn't it just perfect that he would get stuck with this monster? He knew that this monster was messed up in the head, knew that he was psychologically unbalanced, but did he really deserve this? And then he thought _yes_, _yes_, he did deserve this. That little girl could have died, and maybe he had only used her as a means to an end, but she was still Adam's daughter and he could have ended her life there. He could have killed an innocent six-year-old girl.

When his former partner lifted him up and threw him over toward the beds, he didn't protest. He deserved to be manhandled by this monster. He hit his head on the side of the bed, blood leaking into his sandy blond hair. The sickly smile on the man's face only caused his heart to sink further into his chest. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable end. But it never came. Instead, the bigger man took him by the bloody hair and lifted them so that they were eye-level. Chris swallowed hard, tasting the coppery tang of blood.

"So, I hear you tried to kill a six-year-old girl…"

* * *

Ryan hovered at the man's bedside, staring down at him with a distant, closed-off look on his face. How long had it taken to convince himself to come here? He didn't know. He didn't _like_ it here. But then, that almost seemed foolish to say. Not many people liked to be in the hospital. Hell, not many people enjoyed sitting at the bedside of one that they cared about, one that they loved, and watch them rot in a vegetative state. Softly, he brushed the South African's hair away from his face. He looked so innocent there, even oddly… peaceful.

Their baby girl, Annalese, cooed softly in his arms. Her toothless mouth had taken a wad of his shirt and she was gnawing on it softy. Her drool was all over the place, but Ryan didn't mind too terribly. It always used to make Justin laugh when she would slobber all over her teething toys. And, to be quite honest, it was better than having her try and take a bite out of his arm. Ryan lifted a hand and stroked her soft tufts of brown hair tenderly. She laughed, waving her chubby little arms around in wide circles. She was so much like him.

At six-months-old, it was the sad truth that Justin had only been able to hold her once – the same day that she was born. There had been some post-birth complications that required Justin to stay in the hospital, but Annalese had been cleared to come home. Ryan had taken her home, not knowing that that would be the last time he would ever be able to speak to his husband. With trembling hands, he rolled Annalese around on his lap and let her look at her Mommy. She continued to coo sweetly, bubbles of drool coming out of her mouth. She didn't know.

"_Why? Why would you do it? Why would you hurt him when he's done absolutely _nothing _to you!"_ _Ryan screamed, slamming his hands down onto the table. Why he had been allowed this interrogation, he would never know. But he would enjoy every minute of it._

_Justin's attacker tilted his head to the side, a sickly-sweet smile on his face. He still had the South African's blood underneath his fingernails. "Why would I hurt him? Really, Ryan, I thought you were smarter than that. I hurt him because I _could_." He shrugged nonchalantly._

_It took all of his self-control not to reach across the table and strangle him then and there. "You think you're funny, bastard?" The man remained silent, just staring into Ryan's eyes. "This isn't a joke. I want the truth. I don't want to hurt you," that was a lie, "but don't leave me no other choice."_

"_Fine, you want to know why I hurt him." Ryan nodded. "Because he was mine, and that baby should have been mine, and if I couldn't have him… well, why should I let you have all the fun?"_

Ryan stared down at Justin. Six months he had been in a vegetative state, thanks to his killer. The doctors were able to identify that he had been stabbed in the stomach while pregnant, and that the blade had missed Annalese by mere centimeters. However, it had cut into a major organ and he was now bleeding internally. Every day that he didn't wake up on his own made his chances of survival even slimmer. And now, Ryan could _feel_ that it was time to let go. He couldn't hold onto him anymore.

He turned to the doctor and nodded. "It's time." He said.

"Are you sure?" The doctor asked. Ryan nodded, holding Annalese closer to him. She had started to wail, but he could barely hear her. All he could hear was the siren call of the flat line on Justin's heart monitor.

Tears streaked down his face as he took hold of Justin's hand, kissing him one last time. "I love you, baby. Goodbye."


	46. Happily Ever After?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Violence, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

"Well, Brie, since you're the first one out of bed this morning, you get your choice of what you want for breakfast." Judy told the small child with a smile, before opening the cabinets above the sink.

Brielle looked at her grandmother in confusion. "What's a choice?" She asked softly.

Judy turned to her suddenly, just as confused as the little girl. "A choice? Well… it's like you have two options, and you can pick which one you want." She did her best to explain.

Brielle's face scrunched up cutely. "I don't think that I've ever had a 'choice' before."

Judy didn't mean to pry, but she needed to know more. "How come?"

"Well, Mommy doesn't have a lot of money. He works hard, but most of it goes to Miss Beth so she'll watch me while he works. The rest he puts toward food for me. I eat a lot of peanut butter and jelly." Brielle confessed.

"Do you like peanut butter and jelly?" Judy asked, thinking about snacks and lunches.

Brielle made a face. "Not really."

"Why eat it if you don't like it, then?" Judy continued, searching around for a pan to make breakfast in.

Brielle shrugged. "Because Mommy always looks so happy when he sees me eat, and I don't really see him eat a lot, so I think he spends all his money on me. I don't wanna make him feel bad."

"I'm sure that he'd understand, sweetheart." But Judy didn't push the matter further. She didn't want to stick her nose were it wasn't welcome. "How about some blueberry pancakes. Do you like blueberries?"

Brielle's eyes lit up like Judy had just offered her all the candy in the world. It was probably the equivalent, at least for her. "Yes! Oh, pretty please?" Judy nodded and smiled, if only to watch Brielle get so excited.

Judy tried to lighten the mood of the conversation by asking Brielle if she wanted to help make breakfast. Brielle was more than happy to oblige. It was obvious that the little girl was a novice in the kitchen, but what she lacked in knowledge, she made up for with her eagerness to learn. She wanted Judy to tell her the names of all of the instruments – from the mixing bowl to the whisk – and explain what they did. So Judy did.

It might have taken them a bit longer than it really should have to finish with breakfast, and the pancakes might have looked a little lopsided, but it was the bonding experience that they were left with that really mattered. Judy felt that much closer to Brielle after hearing the little girl speak about her experiences with Adam, and through her, she felt closer to Adam as well. Her heart ached for her little boy, just imagining the hell that he had to live through.

When asked where Adam worked or if she could explain what he did, Brielle just shrugged and said that he was a dancer. She didn't know where he danced or 'how' he danced, only that he was a dancer and he worked off of tips. That was why it had been so difficult for him to pay for her operation. But he also had no money (or time) to finish his education, so, essentially, he was stuck right where he was and where he would always be.

After the pancakes were finished, Judy sent Brielle in to wake up Randy and Adam. From the loud crash and the subsequent screaming, followed by a six-year-olds manic chuckles, Judy could tell that she enjoyed her task. Judy set the table, making sure that Randy and Adam would sit next to each other. She could tell that that boy was good for her son. And if he was good for Adam, then he was good for her too.

"Is it morning already?" Adam complained, rubbing at his eyes as Brielle led him out of the bedroom, hand-in-hand.

"Well, actually, I'm pretty sure that it stopped being 'morning' a half-hour ago, son." Judy flashed him a smile. "But you two needed your sleep. You were up late last night." Judy winked.

Adam flushed, looking about ready to go crawl under a rock and die. Randy followed him out of the bedroom, oblivious to the conversation. "I smell pancakes." Of course, he was only focused on the food.

"Of course you do. That's what's for breakfast… well, brunch anyhow. Brielle helped me make them."

Brielle smiled. "And I know what a whisk is now, Mommy!" She exclaimed proudly.

"Good, sweetie." Adam ruffled her fluffy blonde hair. "Maybe when you're a little older you can start to bake stuff. I was never really good at baking."

Judy smirked. "You remember the night you almost burned the house down?"

Adam's flush darkened and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Very well, ma'am."

A comfortable silence fell over them then. Finally, Judy broke it. "Well, this food isn't just going to disappear on its own. And I won't have you wasting it after Brielle worked so hard on it."

Adam and Randy shared a look, before they took their respective seats at the table. "No, ma'am. Of course not."

The pancakes were a little crispy, but not too bad for a first attempt. Adam and Randy ate their fill, even going back for seconds and later, even thirds. Brielle smiled. She had never seen Adam eat so much food before. Well, if she were to be totally honest (and Mommy always told her that it was never right to lie), she had never really seen him eat _anything_. He would always subtly push his dinner onto her plate so she could have more.

Brielle only barely finished one plate of pancakes, but then, Judy had also given her a bowl full of the leftover blueberries. She happily munched away at the contents, scooping them into her mouth with her tiny hands. By the end, her face was a mess. It was really rather adorable. Judy, who was sitting next to her, carefully wet a napkin and dabbed at her purple-stained cheeks. She squirmed as the cold, wet material touched her face.

Once breakfast was finished, Judy turned to her son. "Do you want to help me clear the table, Adam? I think that there are some things that we need to talk about." Her tone was serious, almost solemn.

Adam nodded, understanding immediately. "Of course, Ma. Randy, would you mind watching Brielle for a little while? I'm sure there are still some old books of mine in my bedroom that you could read to her…"

"Books?" Brielle piped up, suddenly interested.

"Sure." Randy chuckled, watching as Brielle tried to grab her bowl of blueberries and slide of the chair simultaneously. "C'mon, sweetie. What do you want to read?"

"Bye, Mommy!" Brielle waved, before she followed Randy out.

"Bye, sweetie." Adam called back, waving until she disappeared. And then, he turned to his mother.

* * *

Randy sat at the foot of the bed, the six-year-old curled in his arms. It felt so odd, having a child in his arms that wasn't his daughter. But really, at six, she wasn't that much bigger than Alannah. It was probably the heart condition. And, after all this, he couldn't really say that he didn't feel a connection to this little girl. She was something unique, something different, and he was… proud of that connection.

The ring box felt heavy in his pocket, and Brielle's little head was resting right above it. Once, it had been Sam's ring. Randy had told Adam a lot about his former wife, but there was one thing that he never mentioned. He and Sam had been going through troubled times _before_ the accident and she had filed for divorce. She had noticed his fondness of men and, instead of filing for dual custody, she wanted sole custody.

He still had the ring, and when the time was right, he planned to make it Adam's. Not that it was smart to speak ill of the dead, but maybe Sam had never been the intended recipient of the ring in the first place. Maybe, from the start, he was supposed to give that ring to Adam. Maybe their meeting at the club had been fated long ago, and all of this should have been history by now. Or maybe life was happening exactly on track.

The soft snores of the baby in his lap told him that the book had finally lulled her to sleep. Carefully, he closed the book and set it aside, murmuring the words that he hoped to hear at the end of his own story. It was the same phrase that had become almost cliché, but not to him, never to him, and not to someone like Brielle. No, it was the phrase that she dreamed of every night. It was the phrase that had saved her life.

"And they all lived happily ever after."


	47. The Next Three Days

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Violence, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

It had been three days since Adam's conversation with his mother, and he had yet to tell Randy what she had wanted to talk about. He made it very clear that that was one topic that wasn't up for discussion. Randy knew better than to push it. He had come so far with Adam, had finally gotten him to open up and trust him, and he wouldn't do anything to risk that. So he watched Adam from a distance, not saying a word, only observing.

Now, on the third day, Adam decided that it was time that they returned home. After another long, private conversation with his mother, he came back into the bedroom and told Brielle to help him pack the suitcases. Randy tried to read the look on his face. It was very obviously blank, almost as if that was the mask that he wanted Randy to see. He didn't want Randy to read into it, because, if he did, then Adam would have to face the truth.

When all of the bags were packed, Randy took them to the car. Brielle lugged her little Disney Princess bag behind her, making a show about how strong she was, even though there were only a few items inside. Adam kissed his mother's cheek and promised that they would be by to visit soon. She looked skeptical, but nodded all the same. Meanwhile, Randy lifted Brielle into the car and buckled her in. She cooed softly, smiling at him.

Adam slid into the passenger seat, closing the door and buckling himself in. He forced a smile onto his face when Randy slid into the driver's seat, but everyone in the car could tell that it was fake. Again, he felt a strong urge to ask what the conversation had been about. Again, he remained silent. He turned the car on and pulled the gear shift into reverse, backing out of the driveway with one last wave to Judy. The truth would come out sooner or later.

* * *

"I don't want you to work at the club anymore." Randy confessed. They sat at Adam's kitchen table, a carafe of coffee between them. Randy nursed an old, cracked mug full of the steaming black liquid.

Adam looked at him through his lashes, slowly swirling the coffee around with his spoon. "Oh, yeah? What else is there for me to do? I'm not exactly swimming in cash, in case you couldn't tell."

"There are alternatives." Randy said. "You could always take out a loan -,"

"A loan?" Adam scoffed. "First, I'd have to prove that I don't actually need one."

Randy nodded, realizing that that idea was absurd. "Okay, fine. What about another job?"

Adam sighed, carefully lifting the mug to his lips. He didn't want it to shatter before he had finished his coffee. "I have a high school education, Randy. What other job is there?"

"There are ways for you to get an education, Adam." Randy assured him. He didn't want Adam to think the future would be so grim. "There are so many alternatives. There are alternatives that are better than this."

Adam rolled his eyes. "Again, we're back to the loan." It was obvious that he didn't want to talk about this.

They had arrived back at Adam's house late. Once Brielle had been tucked into bed upstairs, Adam had offered Randy some coffee – if he was interested in sticking around for a while, that was. Still, he mentioned nothing about the two conversations with his mother. Randy could tell that they were weighing heavily on the blond's head, but he still wouldn't say anything about them. Instead, he only nursed his coffee slowly, his face solemn.

Randy didn't know a lot about Adam's family, aside from what Adam himself had told him. But he could gather from the welcoming (if not a tad uncomfortable) aura in the house that it had been a long time since Adam and Judy had seen each other. He had been surprised to learn that Judy didn't even know about her granddaughter, but Adam hadn't said a word about it. Randy assumed that it had something to do about Chris, but that was dangerous territory.

"What if I said that I could offer you a job?" Randy said finally. Adam seemed interested, but he didn't meet Randy's eyes. "I'm the COO of a modeling company. I could offer you a job there."

Adam didn't seem too impressed. "Me? A model? In your dreams. I'm not exactly modeling material -,"

Randy cut him off. "Why are you always so down on yourself? You're beautiful, Adam. Take ownership of it."

Adam flushed, drinking down his coffee because he had nothing to say in return. Finally, "If you say so."

Randy swallowed hard. "You told me once that… you had to take on the 'extra shift' to try and pay for Brielle's surgery. As much as I hate to say this Adam, _why_ did you earn that money? It was your looks."

Adam didn't seem insulted. He only shrugged, as if he had known this all along. "I look fuck-able, or, at least, that is what Vince always used to say. It's not that I have a pretty face."

Randy's shoulders sagged, before he blew on his coffee. "What can I do to convince you?"

"I don't know." Adam said, shrugging. "What are you trying to convince me of?"

Randy finally let the conversation drop. There was no use trying to convince Adam of something when he was so determined to see it his own way. He wanted to show him how much he loved him, wanted to show him how absolutely perfect he was. Adam was absolutely beautiful, but the last several years of his life had severely damaged his self-esteem. Randy didn't know how to fix him – but he knew that he would do his very best to try.

* * *

Randy trailed his hands over Adam's bare chest, committing every last detail to memory. The body beneath him was so perfect, so flawless, that he was in total awe of the fact that the owner let him have it. Adam practically purred his pleasure as Randy caressed his body like it was some sort of instrument, meant to be enjoyed by his hands only. Randy hoped, at least, that that would be how it was from now on.

He traced his tongue over the contours of Adam's chest, mapping out the quickest route to the blond's navel. Slowly, he dipped his tongue in, swirling it around, before he continued to wet a trail down the man's stomach and into his nether regions. He took hold of Adam's wet, weeping cock in his left hand, slowly working it to hardness, while the other teased his balls. By this time, Adam was practically panting with need.

Not wasting any more time, Randy eased Adam onto his back and took his cock all the way into his mouth. Adam threw his head back, his curls fanning out over the pillows as he clutched desperately at the bedspread. His mouth was hanging open, his rosy lips wet with fresh saliva. Randy took him all the way in with little difficulty, before he hollowed his cheeks and started to suckle. Adam moaned, his eyes heavy and half-lidded.

_"Fuck_, Randy." Adam hissed out, his hand clutching the back of Randy's buzzed head and holding him firmly in place. "Don't… Don't stop. Oh, God. _Fuck_." He cursed, feeling completion nearing.

Randy simply hummed around him in response, unable to form coherent words in his current position.

"Ah! Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_!" His back arched as he forced himself as deep into Randy's mouth as he could without choking him, spilling his seed down the man's throat. "Damn it."

Randy chuckled, swallowing down every drop. He wiped off his mouth with the back of his arm. "You liked that, huh babe?" He asked, smiling at the blissed-out look on Adam's face.

Adam scoffed. "Yeah, you could say that."

"Well, then, I'm sure that you're gonna like this even more." Randy added, before he thrust into Adam's unprepared entrance.

His entry was slow and easy, aided by the addition of lube. Absently, Adam wondered when he had time to put on the lube. But none of that mattered any more. The delicious sensation of his channel stretching around Randy's thick girth was almost more than he could bear, and all he wanted was for Randy to take him, hard and fast, and make him forget every single time that he had ever doubted someone could love him and care for him.

Randy didn't need words. The message came off loud and clear. Pinning Adam's shoulders down to the bed, he started a fast and brutal pace. Always careful to make sure that his baby wouldn't tear, but also giving him the firm, steady fucking that he needed, he set to work on bringing Adam to completion for the second time in fifteen minutes. If he wanted to, he could've lasted longer. But there was no time for that. Not now.

Adam screamed out in pure ecstasy, his fingers madly clutching at Randy's arms. "Oh, yes. _Fuck_ yes. Please, Randy. _Please_. Oh… right there! Harder! _Harder_!"

Randy followed his commands, thrusting harder into his prone channel. Adam writhed in absolute pleasure beneath him, before, with a strangled cry, he came. His back arched up and he clawed at Randy's back, trying to ground himself in some way. Tightening his channel down around Randy's cock, Randy spilled into Adam's channel, filling him with his essence. And then he collapsed, drawing Adam into his chest, and fell asleep.

* * *

Randy awoke to the sound of Adam being sick in the bathroom. Concerned, he was about to get out of bed and check-in on his lover. However, by the time he came to this decision, Adam flushed the toilet and rinsed his mouth out with water. He came out a moment later, wiping at his mouth with a towel. When he saw the concerned look on Randy's face, he managed to offer him a weak smile.

"You okay?" Randy asked softly.

"'M fine." Adam said. Both knew that it was a lie.


	48. Back to the Club

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Violence, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

Adam awoke the next morning to find himself alone in bed, the sheets and blankets pressed neatly where Randy had once lain. Adam felt an unfamiliar twist in his stomach, like a tight knot that refused to loosen, and he didn't know what was causing it. It didn't help that he was incredibly nauseous at the same time. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. Blindly, he reached for the note Randy had left behind.

_Adam –_

_I'm sorry that I had to leave so suddenly, but the babysitter called and Alannah has come down with the stomach bug. I've been away from her for a long time and she needs me now. I'll call once she's settled._

_Love, Randy_

Adam crumpled the note into a ball and tossed it onto the floor, rubbing at his throbbing temples to try and soothe the pain. It didn't work. Nothing worked. In his business, you treated a hangover with a bender. But he didn't much care for alcohol at the moment. It made his head spin just _thinking_ about the vile substance. He chewed on his bottom lip, before gathering the courage to roll over. The room started to spin and he had to stop halfway.

Finally, he was able to roll over entirely, and he reached into the bedside table, grabbing the bottle of Tylenol. He read the instructions on the back of the bottle, not wanting to worsen his condition, before taking two ovular pills and swallowing them dry. He tossed it back into the bedside table and rolled onto his back, closing his eyes again. Why did he feel like someone had run a tractor-trailer over his body? Everything just _hurt_.

"Brielle!" He called. His voice was weak, but it sounded like rapid gunfire in his ears. "Brielle, sweetie!"

After a few minutes, the tiny girl shuffled into the room, rubbing at her tired eyes with little fists. "Yes, Mommy?"

Adam forced a smile for her, watching as she struggled to climb on the big bed. "Could you do Mommy a big favor?" A nod. "I need some water. My throat is really dry. Can you bring me a glass from downstairs?"

Brielle tilted her head to the side, blonde curls tumbling over her shoulder. "But, Mommy… you said that I wasn't supposed to go in any of the cabinets because there is bad stuff in there."

Adam remembered. That had been when he had hidden away a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of whiskey – just in case. "This is a special occasion, sweetie. And you know where the glasses are."

Brielle nodded, already trying to slide back off the bed. But then, she asked, "Are you sick, Mommy?"

Adam looked her directly in the eye and lied. "No, sweetie. Mommy is just fine."

Brielle smiled. "Okay. I'll be right back!"

Normally, Adam wouldn't trust the six-year-old to carry _herself_ up the stairs, let alone a glass of water. But he doubted that he could even move, let alone fetch one by himself. He closed his eyes, gently massaging his temples again. Adam didn't like to lie to his daughter. He didn't make it a regular habit, either. But he was scared, scared of the unknown, scared of what he _did_ know. And he couldn't let Brielle know that he was scared.

He knew that Randy loved him, and while he couldn't say it out loud, he knew that he loved him as well. Sometimes, though, he had trouble believing what he was being beaten over the head with. Randy loved him. That wouldn't change any time soon. But, at one point, Wade had said that he loved him as well. Love always ended. The only love that remained was his love for Brielle, and he knew that that would never falter.

His phone buzzed on the bedside table. He didn't remember putting it there. He sighed, black dots dancing before his eyes as he rolled over, reaching out to answer it. "Hello?"

_"Adam?"_ It was Vince. Of course, it was Vince. _"Where the hell are you? Do you know what time it is? We had an agreement, Adam. The day your back on American soil, your ass is back on my stage. It's been _three_ days."_

Adam swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, sir. It's just… It's been hard getting -,"

Vince cut him off. _"Do I sound like I care about how hard life has been since you got back?"_

Adam rolled his eyes. Where was Brielle with his water? "No, sir. You don't." He rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand, feeling the sweat pour off of him in waves. "Listen, sir… I'm not feeling too well."

_"Can you stand?"_ Vince asked.

Adam didn't know. But, like he had been doing a lot recently, he lied. "Yes."

_"If you can stand, then you're fit to come in to work. Just take some Advil and put on your big-boy pants, kid. I don't pay you to lay at home, do I?"_ He snapped rudely.

Adam swallowed hard. "I already took some Tylenol, sir. I can't take anything else for four hours." He clenched at the bed sheets, holding back another wave of nausea. "And please, don't speak so loudly."

_"I expect you to be here within the hour."_ Vince said, before he ended the call.

Adam bit back the urge to call him back, chew his head off, make him _hurt_. Adam threw his phone down onto the bed, cursing as the room span around in violent circles. He couldn't move fast enough. Stumbling off the bed, he barely made it to the trashcan before he violently revisited the contents of his stomach. The taste of bile was thick in his mouth and throat, and once the violent attack was over, he slid onto his butt, leaning against the dresser.

"Mommy, I have your water!" Brielle exclaimed happily, proud that she hadn't spilled a single drop.

"Thank you so much, baby girl." He rasped, his throat raw from the attack. He took it in shaky hands, spilling more onto himself than he swallowed. Brielle watched him, frightened.

"Are you sure that you're okay, Mommy? You don't look too good." Brielle said worriedly.

"I'm fine, sweetie. I'm fine."

* * *

Adam did his best to put on the show that these men had come to see, but it was hard to have the focus he needed when the room was just… so… _hot_. He moved around, thrusting his body against Jeff's as they stripped each other of their outfits. Jeff made a show of sensually sliding his hands down Adam's sides, careful not to set off any more violent reactions. They had rehearsed backstage and he had gotten sick. The attack had lasted five minutes.

Jeff had given Adam some anti-nausea medication, which had helped to settle his stomach somewhat. However, it did little to quell the burning, dizzying heat that he felt in his core. He pumped his body this way and that, ignoring it until he just couldn't ignore it any longer. Halfway into their routine, Adam desperately clutched at Jeff's forearms, using the slightly shorter man's body for balance as his feet went out from underneath him.

The crowd gasped, suddenly realizing what was going on. Jeff, realizing that this could very well cost the blond his career (and, with it, take his only source of income), made quite the show of making it seem like this was all part of the act. He carried the semi-conscious Adam through the last bits of their routine, holding him close and allowing the blond to inhale his comforting, familiar scent. Jeff would always take care of his boy.

When the show was over, Jeff waited until the curtain closed, before he picked Adam up and carried him bridal-style to their dressing room. Carefully, he set the blond down on the couch. He got a water bottle and slid the nipple between the taller man's lips, squeezing the cool, refreshing liquid into his mouth. Adam gulped it down greedily, obviously not as far gone as Jeff had originally thought. When he was finished, Jeff pulled the nipple back.

"What the hell happened out there, Adam? I thought that you had died on me or something!" Jeff exclaimed, concerned. "Why would you come back if you weren't one-hundred percent?"

"Because Vince said that I had to." Adam said. He didn't meet Jeff's eyes, knowing that he would see the disapproval there. "And I can't tell him no, now, can I?"

Jeff waved it off. "Tell me, what do you think you have? The stomach bug? Some sort of virus? Vince wouldn't want you back if it was contagious, you know. You could infect the whole club."

Adam looked down sullenly. "I know that. And… it's not contagious." Adam swallowed hard. "I think that I'm pregnant."


	49. The Fire

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Violence, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

Jeff's eyes widened as he stared at his friend, who awkwardly twisted his hands in his lap. "What do you mean 'you think that you're pregnant'?" Jeff asked. He knew that question sounded stupid, but he was in absolute awe.

Adam shot him a hard stare. "I don't think that I can make it any simpler, Jeff." But then, he bit his tongue. It wouldn't do well to piss off the only person that was on his side. "I know what this means."

"No, actually, I don't think that you do. You weren't conscious when you went into labor with Brie, Adam. You don't remember it. _I_ do." Jeff crossed his arms over his chest. "The doctor said that you almost died."

"I know that I almost died. I _know_ that. It's kinda hard to forget something like that." Adam hissed. "The doctor told me after I had Brielle that it was extremely unlikely that I would get pregnant again – like, less than one percent."

Jeff stared at the taller man's face, watching his eyes flicker nervously about. "Maybe you just have the stomach virus that goes around this time of year. I doubt it's anything to worry about."

"I don't know." Adam mumbled softly, twisting around to make himself more comfortable. "I think my impending death is something that should be a bit disconcerting."

Jeff knelt down beside the couch, brushing Adam's sweaty locks away from his face. "You're not gonna die."

Adam looked at him, allowing his fear to break through the cracks in his hard exterior. "How can you be so sure?"

"I know, because Brielle needs her Mommy, and the Adam I know is a fighter. He wouldn't let it end like this. You just have another obstacle to overcome, that's all. Don't let it get you down."

Adam blinked, wanting to believe him, but finding it incredibly difficult. "Do you promise?"

Jeff nodded. "Yeah. I promise." Jeff kissed Adam's forehead. "Now, do you think you can take a shower?"

Adam laughed blandly. "I _can_ take a shower." He rolled his eyes. "But I don't want to."

Jeff scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You don't really have much of a choice, baby boy. C'mon, now."

Jeff took Adam by the hand, making sure that he was steady on his feet before leading the way into the bathroom. Adam was his responsibility, after all, and he couldn't risk having the blond collapse on him. Especially if he was carrying a new life within him. Jeff had seen first-hand the disastrous effect of Adam's first pregnancy on his body, and while he was scared for his best friend, he would take care of him – nobody else would.

He picked the handicapped shower at the end of the row and sat Adam down on the little plastic bench. Slowly, he started to peel off the tight leather shirt on Adam's body. Once it was off, he slid it off and tossed it over into the corner. He then moved down further, unbuttoning Adam's slacks and pulling them down his hips, thong included, motioning for the blond to raise his hips so that he could slide them the rest of the way off. They joined the pile.

Reaching back, he turned on the water. Somewhere along the line, he had lost his clothes as well, but Adam was too out of it to realize when it had happened. He took the extendable shower head and brought it closer to Adam's skin, letting the warm water wash over his naked body. Adam moaned, leaning back and allowing the sweetly comforting sensation to wash over him. It had been a long time since he had trusted someone to be this close to him.

Once Adam's skin was wet, he took a bar of soap and started to rub it over the blond's skin. Adam's head lolled backward, allowing Jeff full access to his body. With his eyes closed, the hot water pulsating over his body, he felt the tumultuous sensations in his stomach quell. After he was clean, Jeff ran the water over him one more time. It only took a few seconds for Jeff to wash his own body after that, not that Adam was counting.

Jeff slid out of the shower and picked out a fluffy white towel, coming back and cocooning Adam's body in it. He scooped him up bridal-style, much like he used to carry Phil, and took him back into the dressing room. When they arrived, he steadied the blond against the wall and patted him down with the towel, tossing it at his head and instructing him to dry his hair. Slowly, Adam did as he was told. He wasn't really in the mood to move around.

"What do you want to wear?" Jeff asked. He was still stark naked and soaking wet, but that didn't seem to bother him too terribly. "You don't have too many choices, but…"

Adam's heart constricted in his chest, but he tried not to let his hurt show. "Yeah, I know I don't have a boatload of money. No need to remind me." He said solemnly.

Jeff frowned. "You know that that's not what I meant by that, Adam."

Adam raised an eyebrow. "Do I?"

Jeff leveled him with a steady gaze. "I don't think that we want to start another fight, Adam. The last time that happened, I got raped and your daughter got kidnapped. Let's just back down _now_ before someone gets hurt."

Adam's eyes widened. This was one part of the story he had never heard before. "You were… raped?"

"Yeah." Jeff said off-handedly. It was clear that he didn't want to talk about this anymore. "But that's over now."

"You and I both know that it's _never_ over, Jeff. Don't lie to me." Adam countered roughly.

Jeff shot him a look out of the corner of his eye, before he backed down. "What do you want to wear?"

Adam's shoulders sagged. He wanted someone to talk to, someone who would understand exactly how he felt right now. He didn't want someone to treat him like a baby. "Jeans and a t-shirt, I guess."

Jeff tossed them his way, before he took a towel and started to dry himself off. He dressed quickly, almost as if he just realized that he was standing naked in front of his best friend. Adam was a bit slower, not wanting to give his stomach any more reasons to protest. Jeff, making his way across the room, eventually came upon his bag and tossed Adam the anti-nausea medication. He couldn't take one yet, but he might need one in the future.

Adam stuffed it into his back pocket, resolving to put it in the medicine cabinet when he got home. He didn't want to find out what would happen if Brielle got her hands on it. He smoothed out the creases in his shirt, blindly reaching out a hand for the bottle of water that Jeff was handing him. He took a long drink, feeling the cool liquid flood his system. It was such a relief. He felt so nauseous… he didn't remember morning sickness being this bad.

Jeff stared at his friend, offering him a small, hesitant smile. "You know, what happened to you wasn't your fault. There was nothing that you could have done to stop Chris."

Adam swallowed hard. "I know. I know. But that doesn't mean that I wish it couldn't have been different."

"Of course." Jeff said. "We all wish that something in our lives could have occurred differently." And then, "But, since we don't have a time machine, we need to learn to live with our past in order to accept our future."

"I know. I know, but that doesn't make it any better. I want to… I want to accept it and move on and all that… but this club… it's a constant reminder of what _he_ did."

Jeff shrugged. "Then leave the club."

Adam stared at him as if he had grown a third head. "You know that it isn't that easy."

Jeff only continued to stare into Adam's eyes. "It will be, when you're ready."

* * *

Adam stared at his house, his little girl clutching onto his leg. "Well, shit."

The cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth. It wasn't lit, but it was there because it was a nervous habit. He stared at his house, which was ablaze with burning, colorful flames. He didn't even know how the house had started on fire. It wasn't exactly spontaneous combustion, but he was always careful to put out his cigarettes and turn off the stove after he used it… so what the hell could it have been?

Well, it was really a matter of time. That house was on its last leg when he had bought it. The real estate agent had been surprised when he had said that he was interested, and she had been even more surprised to find that it actually passed inspection. Just barely, mind you. There were a few violations that needed to be fixed. It had cost him ten thousand out of pocket, and the agent had cut him a break – his hellhole had only cost fifty-thousand dollars.

"Mommy, the house is on fire." Brielle pointed out, staring at the blaze in childish confusion. He didn't think that she really understood what the 'fire' was, but she was certainly mesmerized by it.

"Yes, I believe that we established that." Adam said, gnawing on the filter of the cigarette. "Damn it. What the hell started the fire? Don't even answer that. You probably don't even know."

"Are you mad, Mommy?" Brielle asked worriedly. She stared up at him, tears crystalized on her lashes.

Adam sighed. "No, I'm not mad, baby. I'm just wondering when the damn fire company is gonna show up."

"There must be a lot of fires today."

Adam rolled his eyes. Again, childish logic. It was sweet that she thought that way, but she didn't really understand the way this district worked. There weren't a lot of fires. They just didn't care. "Maybe."

They lived in a shoddy, dangerous district of their hometown. The crime rate wasn't even counted any longer, because the police couldn't keep up with it – hell, half the time they didn't even try. If one of the houses in their district burned down, nobody would care. Most of the people who lived down there were criminals, anyhow. Why not kill two birds with one stone? At least, that was how the police saw it.

With a grunt, Adam picked up Brielle, feeling the nausea start to return. 'Morning sickness' was a really crappy term for it, because it certainly wasn't just limited to the morning. His heart sank when he realized that his anti-nausea medication was in the house, burning just like everything else. He would just leave it there, walk away and let the house burn, if he wasn't concerned about the other houses that were attached.

Adam felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He reached for it, shifting Brielle in his other arm. "Hello?"

_"Hey, Adam."_ It was Randy. Of course, it was Randy. _"Listen, I was just wondering if you had given anymore consideration to my offer. I promise, this job can offer you a better life then that club."_

"I can't talk right now." Adam bit out, frustrated. Where was the damn fire truck?

_"What do you mean?" _Randy sounded a bit hurt, and it was probably because of Adam's harsh tone.

Adam wasn't in the mood. He had somehow managed to be horny and nauseous at the same time, in the midst of being pissed the fuck off about the damn fire truck taking its time getting there, and he just wanted to sleep in _his_ bed, which was burning. "Because my house is burning down." And then, he hung up.


	50. A Proposal

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Violence, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

Brielle had started to become antsy. The tiny blonde had started to twist around, causing the arm that Adam held to contort in awkward directions. She was looking around for a fire truck that Adam knew would never come. Instead, she was only causing more commotion, setting him more on edge, and he could feel a pounding headache start to form. The world seemed to be swirling around him, closing in on him and rapidly expanding all at the same time. He squeezed his eyes closed. He needed to sit down or he would be violently ill. He looked around, desperate, but couldn't find anywhere to sit.

Suddenly, the sound of screeching tires on the asphalt hit his overly-sensitive ears. Adam squeezed his eyes closed even tighter, releasing Brielle's hand and clamping his palms down over his temples. The world had started to spin in one violent, endless circle. He totally missed the sound of the car door opening, the large form that slid out of the driver's seat, the slamming of the car door. Before he even realized what was happening, the floor was going out from under him and the world was spinning faster... faster... _faster_... Arms clamped around his middle and he was pulled into a broad, tight chest.

"Adam? Adam, are you alright?" Randy's deep tenor washed over Adam's system like a cleansing flood, making all of his bones turn to water. Without hesitation, his body relaxed in Randy's arms and he became dead weight almost instantaneously.

"D-Dizzy." Adam stuttered out. "It's all the... all the smoke." His eyes fluttered, before it seemed like he had finally lost consciousness.

Brielle turned around, her baby blue eyes widening at Adam's fallen frame. "Mommy?" She asked softly.

Randy hurriedly transferred Adam's body to the bench across the way from their burning house. "Don't worry about Mommy, Brielle. I promise, your Mommy is gonna be alright. But he would want you to be strong, okay? Can you do that?"

Brielle sniffled, tears collecting in her eyes. "Yeah." She nodded weakly.

"That's good." He offered her a comforting smile. "You holding in there, Adam?" Adam made a small noise in the back of his throat, confirming his return to consciousness. "I'm gonna go back to the car and get a bottle of water for your Mommy, okay? You stay here."

Brielle sniffled again, climbing onto the bench beside Adam and burying her face in his shoulder. "Yes, Randy."

Quickly, Randy crossed the street and made his way to his car. He unlocked it electronically and slid into the passenger seat, reaching into the glove compartment and taking out one of the bottles of water that it contained. Looking around, he wondered where the fire truck that he had called was. He'd taken the liberty of calling once again, knowing the reputation of the fire companies around this part of town. But, just as a precaution, he'd called the fire company of his own part of town and filled them in on the situation - they should be there any second now.

Randy hurriedly slid back out of the car and locked the door, stuffing the keys back down into his pocket. Brielle was still cowering into Adam's shoulder, and Adam was now lucid enough to gently stroke her silky blonde curls. Randy could only hope that the fumes didn't have any lasting effects on Adam's body. Taking a seat on the open expanse of bench, he unscrewed the lid on the water bottle and tipped it to Adam's lips. Adam's eyes fluttered and he opened his mouth just enough for the liquid to flow down his throat. He drank like a man who had been stranded in the desert.

Finally, Randy pulled the bottle away. There was only a little bit left in the bottom. "You feel better now?"

Adam swallowed hard, letting out a soft sound of displeasure. "I feel like shit. I don't... I don't even... I don't want to talk about it."

"Do you even know what could have started the fire?" Randy asked, looking at the beautifully destructive burst of flames that came from - what used to be - the house. "Do you know where it started?"

Adam looked away. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to _talk_ about it. "No."

Brielle looked up at Randy, still hiding sheepishly behind Adam's shoulder. "...I know how it started..."

Adam turned to face her sharply, feeling a wave of nausea flood over him. "What?"

"I...I know." The tears started to fall from Brielle's eyes. "Auntie Beth... she sometimes said that... when the boiler would creak... she said she didn't trust it. It wasn't built right. And I... I heard it creaking tonight... And I went downstairs to look."

"Brielle!" Adam yelled. It was a shock to his own ears, as he had never yelled at Brielle before. "You know better than to go down there! Damn it, Brielle, you could have gotten hurt!" His voice died away to a murmur as the blood throbbed in his temples again.

"I... I'm sorry, Mommy. I was scared... I just wanted to... to look." Brielle broke down into sobs, unable to control them.

Randy stretched out a hand behind Adam, touching Brielle's curly blonde head. He stroked her hair in a consoling manner, wanting to comfort her. "It's okay, sweetie. You didn't really know."

The wail of sirens in the distance alerted them to the incoming fire trucks. Randy barely had time to think about moving his car aside, before the trucks pulled in in front of Adam's house. Men started to pour out, all making their way to Adam's house at breakneck speed. However, within seconds, it became obvious that the house was beyond saving. The second floor collapsed, killing one of the firemen that was trapped inside. Randy flinched, caught between listening to Adam wheezing and watching the catastrophe of the house collapsing.

Randy broke the silence, turning back to Adam. "I'll... I'll offer this to you one last time, okay? You and Brielle are welcome to come back home and live with me, if you like. You can leave behind your life as a dancer and you can take a job at the modeling agency. _Please_, Adam."

Adam sighed, choking with all of the smoke that was in the air. Randy placed a nice, clean handkerchief over his face to try and keep some of the dirt out of his lungs. "I don't suppose I have much of a choice now, do I?"

Brielle crawled closer into Adam's personal space. "Mommy..."

Randy met Adam's emerald eyes with his unwavering gaze. "You've always had a choice, Adam. It's just time you've made the right one."

"I made all of the choices I did because of my daughter. You can't fault me for always putting her first, now can you?" Adam narrowed his eyes at Randy, trying to get the brunette to see reason. "And _this_ is what is best for my daughter."

"To be homeless?" Randy choked out a broken laugh.

"To be _home_." Adam corrected haughtily.

"And why can't that home be with me?"

Silence. That was the answer that Randy had expected. Absolute, dreadful silence. Adam had no decent comeback to offer, so he simply turned away, closing his eyes and pretending to take a moment's rest from the onslaught of smoke. Randy, seeing no other option but to go ahead with Plan B, reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a tiny, velvet box. With Adam's house in shambles, burning to ashes behind them, Randy got down on one knee and held the box out to Adam. With a flick of the finger, he opened the box and revealed a beautiful, shimmering diamond set in rich, rose gold.

Randy forced Adam to hold his gaze, before saying, "You say that you do everything for your daughter, for Brielle. That this," he motioned to the burning shambles, "is what is best for her - _home_. Well, I say different. I say that home can be anywhere, as long as you love the people in it. And I love you. _Both_ of you. And I know that _my_ home wouldn't be complete without you. So please... marry me?"


	51. The Answer

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Violence, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

Silence. Absolute silence. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that, on the streets that night, you could have heard the sound of a pin drop. Adam was in absolute shock, his emerald eyes wide and confused as he stared at Randy. The brunette's confidence was unwavering as he knelt on the asphalt, the dirt and grass staining his nice dress pants, but he still refused to move. In any other situation, confidence like that was something to be admired. However, right now, it was doing little more than causing Adam great deals of unwanted anxiety. He was terrified and intrigued by the idea at the same time.

There was no doubt in his mind that he loved Randy. In fact, he loved him almost as much as he had loved Wade, if not more. That was the part that scared him. He had fallen head-over-heels for Wade, thought that he would spend the rest of his life with him, and look at how that turned out. Wade had turned on him and had even testified against him at the trial for custody over his daughter. Adam would be the first to admit that he hadn't had the best of judgment when it came to love, and that was what made this decision so difficult. It wasn't that he didn't trust Randy. He didn't trust _himself_.

As it turned out, he wouldn't have to make that decision. At least, he wouldn't have to make it _yet._ At that moment, his phone decided to ring. Not wanting to be rude but, at the same time, thankful for the blessed release from such an awkward situation, he motioned to the phone and watched as Randy sullenly nodded. He closed the box and slid it back into his pocket. Crisis averted... for now. Randy helped him up off of the bench and Adam thanked him with a shy, tentative smile. Now that the smoke had cleared away a bit, Adam walked away from them in the direction of the house.

"Hello?" Adam answered, not bothering to check the Caller ID. There were only a handful of people that called him, and he felt that he could trust that.

_"Adam? It's Jeff. Listen, I... I'm sorry. I know that it's really late. Normally, I wouldn't have called you, but I..." _here, Jeff bit back something that sounded strangely akin to a sob. _"Did I wake you up?"_

Adam swallowed hard. "No. No, you didn't wake me up. I've been awake for awhile, and probably wouldn't have gotten to sleep anyhow. Don't worry about it, okay? What do you need?"

Now that the fire had started to die down, the fire trucks that Adam had called started to arrive. _"Are those fire trucks in the distance?"_

"Yeah. It's... It's a long story, Jeff. Like I said, don't worry about it." Adam attempted to assure him. "Tell me, why did you call?"

Adam confirmed now that Jeff was crying. There was the sound of an ambulance in the background. _"It's, um... It's Phil. He... He woke up and he was feeling strange. He was dizzy and nauseous and... I had him sit down, but it only got worse... and..."_

Adam's emerald eyes widened. "Don't tell me that he lost the baby, Jeff. He couldn't have. He was fine. Please, tell me that he's fine."

Jeff choked back a hard sob. _"No, he didn't lose the baby. Not... Not yet."_ There was a pause, the silence pregnant and the metaphorical black cloud hanging over both of their heads. _"I called the doctor. She said to check his blood pressure and it was one-seventy over one-hundred."_

"Holy shit!" And then, Adam clamped a hand over his mouth, casting a sheepish look back at his daughter. Thankfully, she wasn't listening.

_"The doctor had the same reaction... but hers was a bit more professional."_ Jeff said. _"Adam... Phil has preeclampsia."_

Adam, remembering his own pregnancy battles, could only imagine what Phil must be going through at that exact moment. You didn't mess with something as serious as preeclampsia. "Do you want me to come over and sit with you while you wait for news?"

Jeff swallowed hard. _"I know that it's an awful lot to ask, but it would mean a hell of a lot to me."_

"Then I'll see you in about fifteen minutes."

Adam abruptly ended the call, still shaking from the news that he had received. Phil had preeclampsia. _Preeclampsia. _Adam knew how dangerous that could be. While his particular pregnancy issue had been different, he knew that all were serious and life-threatening to both the mother and the baby. Even if he was only seven and a half months along, when he arrived at the hospital, they would have to induce pregnancy to attempt to save both the lives of the mother and the baby. Adam prayed that it would be enough. They had already lost so much...

About to turn back and relay this news to Randy and Brielle (but, of course, not tell her all of the specifics), he was confronted by the chief fire officer. He informed Adam about the sorry condition of his home and confirmed that it _had_, indeed, been the boiler that had caused the fire. He handed Adam a stack of papers that needed to be signed in order for the building to be demolished. Adam signed them hesitantly. Without that home, they would officially be considered homeless. Adam didn't have enough money to even rent an apartment and he certainly wasn't in a position to obtain a loan.

He walked back over to them, a dismal look on his face. "I'm sorry, but we'll have to continue our conversation at a later date. A matter of life or death has just come to my attention and I would be a foolish friend if I just walked away."

"You would be a foolish man if you just walked away from my proposal." Randy countered. "I told you very clearly that I would extend my offer to you one last time. That offer was my heart, Adam, and it's not a toy. You can't just ask for it whenever you want it and then throw it back when you're done."

Adam frowned. "You sure like to play me to be some sort of monster. Have you ever considered that life itself isn't a toy either?"

Randy cocked his head to the side, his brows furrowed in confusion. "Then why do you keep playing with yours?"

"Excuse me?" Adam crossed his arms over his chest, looking positively annoyed.

"Look, I get it. Someone hurt you in the past. Someone used you and made you feel like trash. Hell, you were even _raped_. That's not something that _anyone_ should _ever_ have to live through. But you did. And you survived. So stop living life like you died back then." Randy said.

"What exactly do you mean by that?" Adam forced out through gritted teeth.

"I mean that I'm not Wade and I'm certainly not Chris. Because when I tell you 'I love you', Adam, you better damn well believe it." Randy was fuming now. "And I can tell that when you look at me, all you see is them. And I'm tired of it. I'll never be them, and they'll never be _me_."

"That's enough." Adam choked out, the unwanted tears returning once more.

"Is it?" Randy asked, feeling the need to push just a little bit harder.

"What the hell do you want from me?" Adam was screaming now, attracting the attention of others on the street. But he didn't care. He _couldn't_ care any longer. "Tell me, so that we can be done with this! What do you want?"

"I want you to tell me that you love me. I want you to admit it, because you've never said it aloud and I can _see_ it in your eyes. You love me, so say it. _Say_ it, Adam. _Say it."_ The last words were little above a whisper, riding on the heavy winds of the night.

"Fine!" Adam felt funny when he realized that he was still screaming into the utter silence of the night. "I love you! Are you happy now?"

"You have no idea."

And then, without a word, he swept the pregnant blond into his arms and kissed him with all of the force that he could muster. It may not have been the classical way in which he had imagined Adam declaring his love for him, but that didn't make it any less sentimental. Adam, who was, at first, rigid in his arms, soon straightened his body out and allowed his eyes to slowly fall closed, melting into the kiss. It was the kind of kiss that he always dreamed of, the one you saw in all of the movies. Cliché, but beautiful all the same. Slowly, Randy drew back, lips still tingling from the overwhelming excitement.

"And now..." Randy trailed off, the words hanging from his lips.

"What?" Adam asked, still encompassed in the brunette's arms.

"Tell me now." Randy stared into the blond's eyes, steeling himself to accept any answer that might fall from his lips. "Tell me know if you'll marry me. Tell me if we'll make a new home together, where you and Brielle will _always_ be safe. Will you marry me, Adam?"

Those were the five words that he had always longed to hear from Wade. He had always wanted someone to love him enough to get down on one knee and to ask him to be with them forever - because, before all of these events had transpired, he never thought himself a 'slut'. Maybe he was a little bit broken, but wasn't everyone? But Wade had never proposed and Adam was left out in the dirt, alone and even more broken than he had ever been. And then Randy came along and did his very best to make everything better. But could he take that risk, that blind leap of faith?

His heart thudded madly in his ears and the wicked nausea had returned, but as he stared into Randy's eyes, he felt oddly calm. Instantly, he knew what his answer would be. And the answer was "Yes."


	52. Leave

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Violence, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

But Randy needed to be sure. He needed to be absolutely sure that Adam would _never_ change his mind about how he felt for him. "Are you sure?"

"I don't think I've ever been more sure of anything in my life." Adam murmured. "Except, maybe, for the fact that I need to be at the hospital. Now."

Randy let out a hard sigh, not realizing that he had been holding his breath. Immediately, he reached out for his fiancé, taking hold of the tall, slender body and pulling it taught against his. Adam let out a small squeal of surprise, his hands rising to press tentatively against Randy's chest. And he kissed him. It was hard and fast and more teeth than lips, but still, it had to rate as one of the most fantastic kisses that Adam had ever had. Hands wandered over Adam's broad back and Adam's hands fisted the front of Randy's shirt - they were only brought back to reality by the gagging noises Brielle was making.

Adam broke away, turning to his daughter. With one eyebrow raised, he asked her, "You have a problem, little lady?"

"Kissing is gross." Brielle proclaimed, sticking her tongue out at her 'mother' and future father.

"One day, you're gonna meet a boy and all you're gonna wanna do is kiss him. And when that day comes, I'll remind you of how gross you used to think kissing was." Adam stuck his tongue out in return, earning a small giggle from the little girl.

"And when that day comes, we'll be chasing that boy down the driveway with a baseball bat." Randy continued. Adam turned to him, smiling, his eyes twinkling with amusement - clearly, he was thinking the exact same thing.

There was a moment of silence. Then, Adam said, "We really should hit the road. I need to be there with Jeff. I know how hard this can be."

"Are they going to try and stabilize his blood pressure before they induce labor, or just go with an emergency C-section?" Randy asked.

Adam shrugged. "I honestly don't know. Jeff wasn't really in the state of mind to tell me too much." He turned to Brielle, extending his hand out to his little lady. "You wanna come with us to the hospital and sit with Uncle Jeffy?"

Brielle might not have understood what preeclampsia was, but she knew that her Uncle Phil was hurting and understood that Uncle Jeff was worried. "Of course." A pause. "Should I bring my stuffed lion? It always comforts me when I don't feel good."

Adam smiled softly, feeling a burst of love for his daughter. "I'm sure that he'd love that."

A few minutes later, everyone was loaded into the car. Adam cast one last forlorn look at the house that he would be leaving behind - that was the house that he had once shared with Wade, the house that he had dreamed of renovating, of raising his family in. As it turned out, fate had another idea in mind. And then, a thought occurred to him. Hurriedly, he reached into his pocket and took out a circular container of pills. He opened it and took one out, handing it to Brielle. With all of the smoke and other chemicals in the air, he didn't want her heart condition to act up.

She took a bottle of water from Randy and swallowed her pill easily, just like a big girl. She smiled. She always liked it when her Mommy called her a 'big girl' or 'his little lady'. Once she had screwed the lid back onto the bottle as tightly as she could, Randy took the bottle back, sliding it into the cup holder up front. And then, starting the engine, he pulled out of the driveway and turned onto the road. Looking into the rearview mirror, he saw Brielle start to doze off. The medicine tended to have that effect on her. Returning his attention to the road, he started on his way to the hospital.

* * *

"Mr. Hardy?" A petite blonde nurse called his name.

Jeff popped out of his chair like it was a toaster, hurrying over to her. His eyes were swollen and red-rimmed, indicating that he had recently been crying. "Yes, I'm Mr. Hardy." He told her. "What can you tell me? Do you know anything about Phil's condition?"

"Yes." She smiled grimly, revealing that the news would not be pleasant. "Your boyfriend is suffering from preeclampsia, as you know. Dr. White, his attending physician, has introduced a strong blood pressure medication into his system. As of yet, it has had no effect."

Jeff swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes closed. He knew what this meant. "What can you do for him?"

"He has to be taken into surgery immediately. An emergency C-section is the only way to save both Mr. Brooks and your baby."

"I... I... I don't even know what to say." Jeff had to sit back down. The world was spinning rapidly around him and he didn't trust his feet to remain fixed to the ground. "How did this even happen? He was _fine_ just a few days ago..."

"Has Mr. Brooks been under any extreme stress lately?" She asked kindly.

Jeff swallowed hard, thinking about how Phil had to deal with the fall-out of his being attacked. That moment where Phil had begged him not to leave played over and over in his head... "Oh my God... _I_ did this to him! I should never have left. It's... It's all my fault."

"I'm sure that that's not the case, Mr. Hardy. Don't think of it as your fault." She tried to smile, but it looked like more of a scowl.

Jeff didn't even realize that there were tears brimming in his eyes. "Please... just take good care of him, okay?"

"We'll do our very best, sir."

Jeff watched as the nurse walked away, the automatic doors opening to allow her into the 'Authorized Personnel Only' section of the hospital, before shutting after she had cleared the sensor area. He closed his eyes, counting backward from ten, and tried to stop the onslaught of tears. It didn't work. They slowly slid down his face, dripping from his chin and falling onto his hands. He couldn't believe that he was the stressor that had caused Phil to become so sick. He couldn't believe that he was the one to risk the lives of both his boyfriend and their unborn baby.

He was so caught up within himself that he didn't even notice the sound of the emergency room doors opening - the sound of an all-too-familiar man's voice talking to a sleepy little girl that had curled herself into a ball in his arms. He didn't even notice the sound of the seat creaking as the aforementioned person claimed the seat beside him. It was only when a stuffed lion was placed in his trembling hands that he dared to look up. There was the face of his best friend, the only other man that he would give his life to protect (except, perhaps, John Morrison). He nodded to the lion.

"Brielle wanted you to have that." Adam offered him a weak smile. "She says that it always comforted her, and so she wants you to have it."

Jeff returned it with a trembling smile of his own. "Does it erase the grief of knowing that you possibly just killed your boyfriend?"

"What?" Adam's eyes widened.

Jeff stared into his eyes, unblinking. "We need to get out of that club, Adam. It's not safe anymore. Think about Hunter and Mark, what could have happened to them - to their _daughter_. Think about JoMo and his baby. Think about Brielle." A pause. "It's not safe, Adam, and we have to move on before it kills us all."


	53. Larissa Mae

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Violence, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

"What do you mean, Jeff?" Adam asked. "What aren't you telling me?"

Jeff choked on a sob, unable to meet Adam's imploring eyes. It seemed as if this was the first time that Adam had ever had to comfort his friend, and he wasn't quite sure how to go about doing it. _"I'm_ the reason that Phil's lying in the OR getting an emergency C-section. It's _my_ fault."

"Yes, yes, that's what you keep saying." Adam shifted Brielle in his arms tiredly. "But it doesn't make any sense, Jeff. I know you too well. I know that you would _never_ hurt Phil or your baby, and Phil knows that too. What aren't you telling me?"

A pause. Jeff frantically scrubbed at his eyes, but his efforts were fruitless. Finally, Adam handed him the nearby box of tissues, which he accepted gratefully. "When the club reopened... I needed to go back, to support Phil and the baby. He didn't want me too, begged me not too, but I didn't listen..."

Adam sighed, placing a hand of Jeff's trembling shoulder. "That's not your fault, Jeff. You were only doing what you thought was best."

"Yeah, and in the process, I was killing my boyfriend. And he just held it inside all of this time. What if he dies? What do I do then?"

Adam shook his head, blond locks falling over his shoulder and dusting across Brielle's serene face. "He's not going to die, Jeff. He still has too much to do here, too much purpose. Quite simply, God isn't ready for him yet."

Jeff forced a trembling smile. "It's easy to dish out the advice when you're not the one that has to take it."

Adam shrugged. "Honestly, I don't really know what to tell you, Jeff. Yes, the position that you're in sucks. But leaving the club without a back-up plan isn't going to solve anything. That's just going to leave you in debt and harm your relationship with Phil and your baby's health."

"What do you suggest I do then, hmm? Get a loan? Like they'd loan one to someone like me." Jeff scoffed.

"Maybe a bank wouldn't loan you money, but I know someone who will." Adam said.

Suddenly, Jeff looked up, interest sparkling in his cool green eyes. His eyes were still swollen and red-rimmed, but the tears had come to an abrupt halt once he realized what Adam had said. Holding Brielle a little closer to his chest, he recounted the tale of her heart attack. As Jeff recalled, she had needed very expensive surgery in order to survive - the operation would have been covered by insurance, of course, but the club didn't provide insurance and that was the only job that Adam had the time to work. That was why he had taken on the extra shift.

He handed his best friend a card with a name and a number written on it. The name on the card was John Cena, and the number was the personal cell phone number that John had given him, where he could be reached at any time for any reason. He explained that, while Jeff's situation wasn't exactly up John's alley (he usually only helped families with sick children), he was sure that John would not turn him away because of this. John had loaned him a handsome sum of money several months back and was patiently awaiting to be paid back - even though he had not yet seen a cent of it.

Jeff looked at the number uncertainly, before he turned his wavering gaze to Adam. "You do realize that I may never be able to return a cent of this. And where would I be then? He'd haul my ass to court and then what? Take away my kid because I can't support him or her?"

Adam shook his head. "He hasn't done that to me, not yet anyhow, and it's been _months_, Jeff." Adam said. "And there is always one option..."

Jeff could read the wicked look in his eyes. "Oh, no. I could _never_ do that. My father wanted to kill me the first time I tried!"

"Well, your father is dead now, so I hardly see how that's any real threat now..." Adam trailed off.

"Adam, my first stint in art school was an absolute _mess. Literally._ I think that it just about started WWIII with my family. My father could hardly stand the fact that I was gay. Art school? Never. And my brother was always caught in the middle."

Adam tilted Jeff's head to the side so that he could look into the younger man's eyes. "But it's what you want to do, isn't it?"

"Of course." Jeff said, shrugging. "But what does that matter?"

Adam rolled his eyes. For Jeff being the unofficial 'leader' of their little group, he certainly had a few more lessons he needed to learn in life. "_Your_ wants, _your_ hopes, _your_ dreams, _your _life." Adam said. "Are you living life for your brother, for your father, or for yourself?"

"For myself." Jeff said. And then, with a little more conviction, "I'm living life for _myself_."

"Good." Adam handed him the card. "Now take hold of that, and don't let it out of your sight."

Jeff nodded, smiling for the first time since the start of their little conversation. He took the card from Adam's hand and walked out into the parking lot, needing privacy for the conversation he was about to have. Adam understood that. On some levels, there would be parts of their lives that the other never touched. There were dark corners of their past that were not meant to be revisited, stories never meant to be told, and skeletons that were best kept locked up in the closet. Until Adam was ready to confront his own demons, he didn't need to test anyone else's.

Brielle was starting to stir, making little gargling noises and fisting the front of Adam's shirt more firmly. She dug her little feet into his legs, trying desperately to find purchase as she slipped between his legs. Adam chuckled, easily hoisting her little body into the air. She giggled loudly, her lovely blonde curls falling in front of her pretty face. With a great _harrumph_, Adam stood up, making a big scene out of how difficult it was to carry her and making his baby laugh all the more. While Jeff talked, he decided to go to the playroom for a little one-on-one time with his baby girl.

* * *

"You're a hard man to find." Randy said, entering into the playroom just off of the waiting room and taking a seat at the _Fisher Price_ coloring table. "I just went to park the car."

Adam rolled his eyes, but flashed his fiancé a playful smile. "Yeah, you went to park the car alright. It definitely takes forty-five minutes to find a place to park in the hospital parking lot."

"No duh." Randy's eyes suddenly grew wide. "I almost got hit by this crazy driver who was driving up the middle of the road! I didn't think that you wanted me to die, so I parked off in that abandoned cross-section off of the medical consultation building."

Adam laughed. "That's like, ten miles away!" He exaggerated.

"I know!" Randy exclaimed, before joining his fiancé in his laughter.

After a moment, the noise died down. All attention turned to Brielle, who was happily scribbling away on a piece of paper that Adam had gotten off of one of the nurses. On the paper were three stick-figures. The first one was tall and blond, so Randy assumed that it represented Adam. Next to Adam's stick-figure was a little girl with messy blond curls. Randy thought that she was Brielle. And Brielle's stick-figure was holding hands with a tall stick-figure with brown hair. When he asked, she only smiled and said that 'it's you, silly'.

And he was content to just watch her draw, but as he continued to watch her, several thoughts plagued his mind. The first was the total lack of Alannah in the picture. Randy didn't know if this was because she didn't know about her, or if she simply didn't want a sibling. The second was the way that she was drawing Adam. Unlike the other two stick-figures, she had put heavy emphasis on Adam's midsection. His belly was drawn as an oval, while the other two were simply lines. And while this was unusual, he didn't want to read too much into it.

"Randy?" Adam turned to him, his eyes hopeful. Randy returned the look with one he hoped was open and receptive to whatever it was that Adam had to say. "I was wondering... if that modeling offer was still on the table?"

Randy blinked, shocked that _that_ had been the question Adam wanted to ask. "Of course, why? Have you reconsidered?"

"Yeah... I, uh, I have. I have my resignation to mail to Vince right here." He held out an envelope, which was addressed to a Mr. Vince McMahon. "I want to be your model." He said with a shy smile.

Randy was so overcome with joy and relief that he quickly bridged the gap between himself and Adam, drawing the pretty blond into his chest and kissing him with all of the force that he could muster. Fingers entangled in messy blond hair and tongues slid against one another in a most memorable dance. Adam was practically swooning in Randy's embrace, caught between the lust and pleasure radiating off of Randy and the lack of oxygen flowing to his brain. In the end, they drew away to,

"Eww! Kissing is gross!" They turned, saw Brielle's disgusted face, and laughed.

* * *

After several hours in the OR, with Phil under heavy medication and Jeff pacing anxiously in the waiting room, Larissa Mae Hardy was born at five pounds, four ounces. Her lungs were not fully developed, so she had to be placed into the incubator immediately, but otherwise, she was as healthy a babe as Dr. White had ever seen. The little baby was beautiful, with Jeff's blond hair and Phil's emerald green eyes. Jeff, under heavy medical garb, was allowed to see her for a few minutes. Unfortunately, during that time, the dull roar of the flat-line in the OR, like gunfire on the battlefield, resounded in the silence...


	54. Surprises

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Violence, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

It was as if, when Phil's heart monitor started that deep, monotonous beep, Jeff's heart stopped with it. The smile that he had graced little Larissa with moments before now faded, tears shimmering in his eyes because he _knew_, he _knew_ what this meant. Phil was dying, or dead, or any associated word. He wasn't where he needed to be from a health perspective, in any case. Right now, he should be holding their newborn daughter, cooing at her and making funny faces and trying to make her laugh. Instead, he was on the bed, being forcibly paddled back into existence.

Larissa, who was sleeping soundly in her tiny incubator, didn't even notice her father's distress. Less than an hour hold, she was so tiny Jeff could have held her in his hand and not be afraid to drop her. The tiny diaper she wore looked more like a swimming pool, the straps covering the entire width of her little belly. Now, the tears fell. Jeff would never admit to them later, but they streaked down his face and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop them. Finally, he just succumbed to them, knowing deep down that the only one who would ever know of his weakness was his slumbering daughter.

And then, a miracle occurred. The doctor, his voice frantic, ordered the charge to be upped to the next degree. He put the paddles to Phil's chest, shouting 'clear', and then the deep, monotonous beep turned into a series of beeps, the middle slightly higher than the other two. Suddenly, another flat line. Jeff dared to turn around, watching in stupefied awe as the doctor put the paddles to Phil's chest again, pushing the electricity into his body. The subsequent jolt and the flutter of the heart monitor were enough to give him a flicker of hope.

This went on for several minutes. At first, it would seem as if the charge took, but then the dreaded flat line would return. The doctor was now cursing under his breath, desperate to stabilize his patient before they lost all hope of saving him. One more time. The charge was increased marginally. He placed the paddles to Phil's chest. Pumped the electricity in. A flutter, another, and suddenly... he was _back_. The monitor stabilized and an oxygen mask was slipped over Phil's mouth, and Jeff knew that he had never felt such a flood of _relief_ in his life. Phil was going to _live._

* * *

**Three Weeks Later**

Life had, for the most part, returned to normal. Phil had been allowed home after a week, but Larissa had only come home a few days earlier. For not having much contact with either parent for the first three weeks of her life, she had adapted marvelously well. The doctor was amazed at how healthy she was, and prescribed a steel baseball bat to fend off all future courtiers. And Adam, true to his word, had mailed in his resignation and had received an official notice of his termination a week later. He was now a model for All World Promotions, but Randy insisted there was no rush to start working.

"I'm home!" Adam called out to no-one in particular. He had been to the doctor to check-in on the baby. While it was still too early to tell the gender, the doctor assured him that the baby was healthy. "Brielle? Alannah? Where are you guys?"

"We're in here, Mommy!" Brielle announced, meaning the sitting room. And then, in a softer voice, she giggled, "No, silly, that one goes _there_."

Adam took off his coat and hung it on the coat rack, before entering the sitting room and leaning on the doorframe. "And what, exactly, are you two doing?" He asked, the corners of his lips turning up in a small smile.

"You can't see them!" Brielle suddenly exclaimed, before throwing herself over the table.

Alannah giggled cutely. "Brie-Brie, you're leaning in the glue!"

"I am?" Brielle asked, before sitting up. Her face contorted into a childish look of disgust. "Eww! It's all icky and sticky!"

Adam rolled his eyes, unable to fight off the amused look that threatened to take over his face. "It's supposed to be sticky, dear. It's glue. It's used for sticking things together." He said this matter-of-factly, his tone as dry as aged wood.

"What are you -," Randy cut himself off as he looked at the mess in his sitting room, and he found himself caught between getting angry and just bursting out into hysterical laughter. He chose the later. "You guys made a mess!"

Brielle bounced up, dragging Alannah with her. The little girl put a hand on her soon-to-be sister's dress, not realizing it was covered with glue. "Aren't they pretty?" Brielle asked, smiling broadly.

Adam managed a peak over Randy's shoulder, the smile on his face blossoming fully when he realized what his little girl was holding. In her hand, she proudly held one of the make-it-yourself wedding invitations that Randy had bought at the store the week before. Adam could remember shooting his fiancé an odd look and asking _weren't we going to have them made-to-order?_ Randy had only smiled and tossed them into the basket, saying, _my sister used these for her wedding, said she saved a whole hell of a lot of money - thought I'd try them out._

Of course, it had never actually occurred to Adam that Randy was practically made of money and really didn't need to be worrying about spending two-hundred fifty dollars on some made-to-order wedding invitations. And, in the three weeks since Phil's near-death-experience, he had actually _met_ Randy's sister. If those two dollar make-it-yourself invitations were good enough for _her_, then he guessed he could live with them as well. Now, he knew the truth. Brielle and Alannah had practically been begging to help out in some way, and this was the easiest way to do it.

"They're beautiful." Randy said with a smile, even if he _was_ lying through his teeth. Even with the example on the box, Brielle and Alannah had put some... extra additions on the cards. They looked like an eighteen wheeler had run them down. "Don't you think so, Addy?"

Adam raised an eyebrow. "I thought I wasn't allowed to see?" He asked.

Suddenly, Brielle crushed the invitation to her chest. "He can't see them!" A few seconds later, she realized the card was glued to her dress. "Eww!"

Adam rolled his eyes. "I think that it's bath time for two little girls, and I think that their names are Brielle and Alannah."

Alannah's pretty eyes widened and she shook her head vehemently. "No bath, no bath!" She tried to make her hand into a fist, only to realize that it was stuck to Brielle's dress. "Brie! Your dress got me!"

Randy chuckled, before kneeling down and gently starting to work his daughter's hand off of Brielle's dress. "Yeah, I definitely think that it's bath time. Addy, grab Brielle. I'll be up in a second."

Adam was one step ahead of him, removing Brielle's dress to make Randy's job easier, before carrying her, kicking and screaming, to the upstairs bathroom. For a child that weighed significantly less than one should at her age, she certainly could put up one hell of a fight. Once inside the bathroom, he set her down on the toilet and started to run the water - making sure that it wasn't too hot and to put in extra bubbles, knowing how Brielle liked to sit and play with them. She had never had a bubble bath before.

Once Brielle was out of her underwear, he plopped her down in the tub. At first, she protested, flinging warm water and bubbles at him, but eventually calmed herself and came to enjoy it. Adam barely even noticed the sound of the door opening, but knew the pitter-patter of little feet and moved aside just enough for Randy to guide Alannah into the tub. It seemed like all of the earlier protesting was long forgotten, as they both splashed around happily, ducking away from the other's bubble-assault. It truly was an adorable sight.

Randy leaned forward, pressing his lips to the shell of Adam's ear to make sure that the little girls couldn't hear. "And how about, after the little misses are in bed, Mommy and Daddy have some fun in the bathtub as well?"

Adam allowed a faint blush to dance across his cheeks, followed by a sly smile. "I can't wait."

* * *

"So, are you planning on telling me what that doctor's appointment was about?" Randy asked, sipping his glass of red wine casually.

Adam, who sat in the tub across from Randy, slid his foot over the tanned man's muscular leg affectionately. "No, I wasn't." And then, with a smile, "It's a surprise."

Randy frowned. "I don't like surprises."

Adam shrugged, easing himself lower into the tub. "I know that you don't. But this one? I think you'll like it quite a bit."

And suddenly, Adam was slithering through the water, his torso on top of Randy's legs, moving up... slowly but surely... advancing on his prize. Gently tugging on Randy's hips, he pulled them just far enough out of the water to gain access to his flaccid cock. A wicked smile was twisting across Adam's face. Randy opened his mouth to speak, perhaps to protest about Adam's chosen method of deterring him off course, but Adam would have none of it. Swooping down, he took Randy in and swallowed him down in one steady movement. Randy gripped the sides of the tub for support, throwing his head back with a certain caution, knowing that the tile wall was dangerously close by.

Adam twisted his head to the side, curving his tongue around the thick, meaty base, and slowly drawing it up until it hooked around the mushroom head. Drawing back ever so slightly, hair floating uselessly in the water around him, he scraped his teeth over the highly-sensitive slit, fingers toying with his balls, which were still beneath the water. Randy was fully erect now, pre-cum slowly dribbling from the slit with every scrape of Adam's teeth. Incoherent mumblings were tumbling from his mouth, and when he would buck his hips, frantic for more of Adam's hot mouth about him, water would slosh over the side of the tub and wet the floor messily.

But then, the levee broke. Suddenly, Adam's mouth opened wide and he took all that Randy had to offer, swirled his tongue around the base, and yanked up. Quicker now, he started a brutally unrelenting pace that had Randy seeing stars. His head bounced up and down in the water, causing a sort of current to form. His other hand, which had been resting on the side of the bathtub, now stroked down the wet, hot mess of Randy's chest. Abandoning the hot, heavy cock for only a moment, he touched his tongue to the sparkling tan skin there and drew patterns over his chest, his hand still working Randy under the water. And that was his undoing.

"Fuck!" Randy's hips bucked up, his cock peeking out of the water as he released his milky seed. The water around him became slightly discolored.

"You want to know what my Ma told me when she held me back for those few minutes before we left?" Adam asked. Randy, totally incoherent after the bliss of his orgasm, could barely nod. "She told me that she could tell you were a good man, one who would never push me into a situation I wasn't ready for."

Randy, suddenly serious, nodded gravely. "That's true."

"Well, if that is true, then you'll let me surprise you... just this once." Adam said, a hopeful look in his eyes.

And how could Randy deny him that? "Okay." He mumbled. And then he kissed him.


	55. Epilogue: The Tarantella

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mpreg, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Violence, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

* * *

The next few days went by rather peacefully. Randy did not mention the 'surprise' again, which Adam was very thankful for, but he knew that Randy was incredibly curious and very confused. He heard him get up in the morning and make a mad dash for the bathroom, violently emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet, and then coming back to bed - doing his best to act as if nothing had happened. This concerned Randy, of course, but he kept his word and did not say a thing about it. During that time, Randy went back to work and Adam stayed home and bonded with the children.

He was proud of his little girl for the way that she was handling this situation. Coming and living with Randy had been like second nature to her, and she had accepted Alannah under her wing with the greatest of ease - he'd always known that Brielle would make an amazing big sister, but he'd always thought that it was an impossibility. The doctor had been so sure that he'd never be able to have children. But now, here he was. Two and a half months. Carrying a healthy baby, and bonding with his soon-to-be husband's baby girl. He didn't think that life could get much better than this.

But life had a funny way of throwing curveballs, didn't it? Especially when it came to Adam Copeland. One month after Phil's near-death experience, Adam received the first letter. There was no return address on the simple white envelope, and, from the looks of it, it had originally been sent to the house that burned down - Adam mentally cursed forwarding addresses. He sat down at the kitchen table, letter opener in hand, and peeled it open. The girls giggled cutely in the other room, showering each other in glitter and colorful confetti. The letter simply read: _I'd keep an eye on the children._

* * *

The phone rang. Adam nearly jumped out of his skin, but managed to regain control of himself just in time to answer it. "Hello?"

_"Adam, it's Jay."_ Adam swallowed hard, feeling as if his heart had jumped into his throat. What reason would his lawyer have to call him? _"Look, if this isn't a good time, I'm sorry. I just need to get this out, Adam, so let me say it. Okay?"_

Adam squeezed his eyes closed. Unknowingly, tears streaked down his pretty face. "Just say whatever it is you have to say, okay?"

_"I just received a phone call from the DA in Ontario, Adam. Chris has been repealing his case fruitlessly, as you know. However, after the DA reviewed the case, it was discovered that one of the witnesses was paid to give their testimony. Well, to be more accurate, they were bribed."_

Suddenly, Adam's eyes shot open wide. "What? Why the hell was the DA even _touching_ that case file? The judge assured us that it was cut and dry!" Adam didn't realize he was screaming until he paused for breath, astounded by the utter silence that followed.

"Mommy?" A little hand gripped the leg of his jeans, and he looked down into Brielle's watery crystalline eyes. "Is Mommy okay?"

Adam nodded frantically, "Mommy's fine, sweetheart, just fine. Why don't you run off and play with Alannah for a little while, okay? I have to handle some business."

Brielle stared into his eyes for a moment longer, before offering, "Don't be so upset, Mommy. It's bad for baby." And then she ran off to find her sister.

The room was spinning around him _so fast_, the entire world swirling about and blending into _one_. He needed to sit down. Gingerly, he leaned on the counter, navigating his way toward the table. "What does this mean for the case?" He finally managed to ask.

_"It means that the decision has been overturned. Chris was a free man as of yesterday. Now, I want you to know that, while he cannot be tried again in Canada -,"_

Adam wasn't listening anymore. His mind went utterly blank, and, without thinking, the phone fell out of his hand and onto the floor. The connection was dropped, and whatever Jay had been trying to inform him of was forever lost. Not that it mattered. Not that anything mattered anymore. Because Chris had taken Brielle and crossed the border into Canada, he had been tried in Canada - there wasn't enough basis to try him in the US. The case couldn't be taken _back_ to court because of Double Jeopardy. In short, even their otherwise noteworthy win had now become an overwhelming loss. Adam felt utterly defeated.

And then, a thought occurred to him. It was a dreadfully maddening idea and he hated it the minute it entered into his brain - hated it because he _knew_, oh he _knew_, that it was the only possible explanation. He rose out of the chair that he had fallen into, fumbling back into the kitchen, and yanked drawers this way and that, his eyes constantly searching for _it_. When he found it, sitting in the cutlery drawer, undisturbed, he peeled it open and read the note over again. Each word, punctuated by the horrific news that he had just received, was like a dagger to the heart. Not knowing what else to do, he cried.

* * *

Randy's fingers hooked into the waistband of Adam's pajama bottoms, teasingly brushing the elastic over his hips. Adam was utterly unresponsive. Randy frowned. Leaning forward, he brushed fluffy blond tendrils away from Adam's face. "You okay there, love?"

Adam sniffled and looked away, unable to meet Randy's eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... continue."

Randy's frown deepened into a scowl. "I'm not about to just... _continue_, when I can tell that you're really not into it."

"Who said that?" The tired blond asked, one eyebrow raised. "Just take care of business and lets hit the sheets, okay? I'm fucking exhausted."

Randy sighed, caught between a rock and a hard-place. While he didn't like to take advantage of Adam while he clearly wasn't enjoying it, he knew that the consequences would be much worse if he didn't follow Adam's instructions to the letter. Adam had been snippier lately, jumping to snatch the bait before it was even offered. He had bitted Randy's head off on numerous occasions for calling him 'overprotective' of the girls, and the punishments had been much worse than minimal sex for the week. Sometimes, Adam wouldn't even come to bed. Instead, he would spend the night sleeping in the girls' bedroom on the floor between their beds...

Their love-making was painfully methodical, with not a bit of love in it. Randy finished inside of him after several half-hearted thrusts and Adam didn't cum at all. Once Randy was done, he rolled away from his fiancé and pulled the covers up to his neck, hiding his scarred and battle-torn body from view. Randy sighed, once again unaware of what to do. Should he attempt to cuddle the temperamental blond, or simply leave him be? Finally deciding on the former, he curled into Adam's back, pulling him back slightly so that they fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. Adam _growled_.

"If you think that you're going to get a second round, you're out of your fucking mind." He hissed cruelly.

Randy's eyes widened in astonishment, and for a split second, he released his hold on the pretty blond. Though his mind was racing, he managed to force out, "What?"

That split-second release was just a second too long, however, as Adam slipped off of the bed and started to dress himself. "I'm not in the mood, Ran. I'm really not." Once dressed, he started to move toward the door. "I'm gonna go sleep with the girls."

Randy's look of astonishment melted into one of confusion. "Why? What did I do this time? Adam, why are you punishing me?"

Adam scowled, not bothering to look at his significant other. "You think _I'm _punishing _you_?" A dark, broken chuckle. "That's funny."

"Well, I don't see what's so damn funny about it." Randy was sitting up now, the blankets pooling around his waist. "Adam - what the hell happened to you? Last week, you were fine! We were making wedding invitations and picking places for the ceremony and life was _perfect_."

"Maybe that's what the problem was. Maybe life _was_ perfect. And you know little-ol'-me. I don't _deserve_ perfection." He spat out each and every word, violently attempting to work the ring off of his finger. It came off with a soft _pop_. "You can have this back."

"Adam -," Randy's voice was broken, choked with impending tears.

"No. I don't have anything else to say."

Adam stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Randy took the hint. He was less than welcome to follow. The pretty blond raced down the hallway, not really knowing where he intended to go, but knowing that he needed to put distance between himself and that room. He just wasn't able to handle that level of intimacy, knowing that Chris was out of jail and hell-bent of getting not only Brielle, but Alannah as well. And what if he found out about the baby that Adam was carrying? Would he want that one too? Would he wait until it was born and then take it from Adam as well?

Once Adam reached the bottom of the stairs, he stuffed a hand into the pocket of his pajama bottoms and retrieved several slips of paper. They were all of the notes that he had received since this entire ordeal had begun. The first: _I'd keep an eye on the children._ Then: _Brielle deserves so much better, don't you think._ Another: _I thought you might be looking for this_. Attached to that note had been Alannah's favorite hair clip, which had fallen out when he had taken the girls to the park. He had gotten that close to her, had seen how she had cried for it, and had the nerve to touch it with his slimy hands to send it back!

But it was the last note, the one that he had received that very morning, that made him so very uneasy. He had read it over countless times, only bothering to tuck it away when one of the girls would come over and ask him to play with them or when Randy came downstairs to make breakfast. He just couldn't believe what he was reading. It all seemed so surreal. It mystified him to think that Chris could hurt him with so few words, but then, Chris hadn't needed words when he had attacked him in the shower stall, now had he? The note had read:_ You know what I want. Give it to me, and the children are safe. _Entering the kitchen, he took out a piece of paper and started to write.

_Dear Randy -_

_I know that this will hurt, but it is what I have to do. I can only hope that you'll understand. This decision is not my own, but one that was made for me through circumstances that I do not feel comfortable revealing. For now, the wedding will have to be called off. It is my deepest wish that we will eventually be able to marry, but I cannot say for certain whether or not I will still be alive to call you my husband._

_I need for you to understand that this is _not_ a suicide mission and I have every intention of returning, but if fate should have it some other way, I want you to know that I do, in fact, love you. It may not always seem that way, but I want you to hear it from me one last time. Where I'm going now, you can't follow. If you do, you will almost certainly be killed. I cannot risk Alannah becoming an orphan._

_If I could be so selfish as to ask you one thing, would you do it for me? Look after my Brielle. If she asks about me, tell her only about how much I love her. Don't let her know about where I have gone and do not let her see you doubt. Tell her that I miss her and will see her soon. Again, I want you to know that this is by no means a suicide mission ~ and I hope to be back shortly. Until then,_

_Adam_

* * *

Adam entered the club, head down, hands buried in his pockets. He wasn't surprised to find the doors unlocked at such a strange hour... he knew what he would find here. A familiar beat played in the background, and Adam found himself navigating toward the stage like a moth to a flame. At first, he barely even noticed the manic chuckling coming from behind him. He turned around, the mirage fading as he stared at the battered, broken form of Chris Jericho. But there was something else... something new... a terrible shimmer of desperation in his eyes, perhaps, and it unsettled him.

"What do you want from me?" Adam forced out softly.

Chris raised an eyebrow. "What do I want from you? _What do I want from you?"_ And then he chuckled maniacally. "Why, I want you to dance for me, Adam. I want you to dance as if your life depended on it - because it does, it really does. Your life. Brielle's life. Alannah's life. All of you. You better give the best performance of your _life_."

The music became louder now. The Tarantella. Adam closed his eyes and started to dance, allowing one final thought to take form before he blacked out - _the Tarantella, thirty-one hours to live..._


End file.
